


Monster

by Belbe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Demon, Double Penetration, Edging, F/M, Kinky, Love, Masturbation, Multi, Nonhuman Sex, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Other, Ritual Sex, Romance, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belbe/pseuds/Belbe
Summary: This is not for everyone I guess ._. It's an idea I got after I saw a post earlier today and I just wanted to write about it!This is the post in question: https://fenicore.tumblr.com/post/166018962698/lets-talk-about-dicksSo, I learned that monster dildos are a thing. And then my kinky side and my muse looked at each other and got a stupid grin on their face and said "Let's get her to do this" so HERE YOU HAVE IT. Go back and don't read if you don't like Satan. Otherwise, make yourself comfortable!





	1. Chapter 1

“Another addition to your fantasy collection, huh? Must be quite a sight by now!”

The postman laughed friendly at you. You nervously smiled back. He was about the same age as you, perhaps a bit older, and you shared a couple of hobbies. Talk about this started when you ordered a figurine from a well-known game, and the name of the statue was on the parcel, to which the postman – James – enthusiastically quoted a one-liner from the game. Soon it became a habit for you two to chat about geeky things you had in common when James came to your door, and this happened often. Having no boyfriend nor lover made you spend more time online and well, figuratively throwing money at the screen to get things the things you wanted delivered at home.

Today was a bit different though. A couple of weeks ago you saw something that caught your eye on a website and you finally ordered it. You sincerely wished it wasn't James that would deliver it to you today, but luckily, the parcel was wrapped discreetly in black and told nothing about the contents. You tried to play it off as a joke as you accepted the box from him.

“I took to gluing things to the wall. Very practical, given that my shelves are full!”

You both had a laugh and James said goodbye, walking back to his car, turning around one last time to give you a wink while you waved at him from the doorway. Then his car rode away from your apartment complex and left you alone with the mystery package. Well, no mystery to you. You knew what it contained.

A nervous sigh left you when you headed up the stairs, to your tiny apartment, kicking the door closed behind you. Then you dropped off the parcel on the small kitchen table and grabbed a pair of scissors, making short work of the tape holding it shut. Plastic crackles and cardboard rustles when you reach inside the parcel, lifting up a carefully wrapped item, colorful through the layers of plastic. You start pulling away layer after layer and becoming more anxious and excited at the same time you finally reveal it and put it on the table.

  
A dildo. But keeping it at just that description would be selling it short. It was dark red, marbled with black veins, bulging out in weird places. The thick base had scales and tiny horns on it, making it clear that it wasn't made to look similar to anything human. You let out a sigh in anticipation and looked at it from a few sides, after making sure that all windows were closed. It was bigger than you expected, and smelled a bit funny. You looked inside the package again to if there's anything else and indeed, another, smaller package lies on the bottom of the cardboard box. It looks like a metal box, with odd-looking writing on it. Cuneiform?

When you lift it, something inside it rattles. Upon opening it, the contents release a pleasant, smoky smell in your direction. It's similar to incense, and very different at the same time. The herbs that seem to release the smell are wrapped in a small plastic bag. The only other thing in the container is a folded piece of paper, that contains gibberish when you fold it open. You try to pronounce some of the words out loud, but can't get to seem them right and set the paper aside.

Nervous, you move your attention to the dildo again. The colors are very realistic – one of the things that made you attracted to it. You couldn't really explain why you bought the item.  
Before stumbling on the obscure site that sold them, you hadn't really been into demonic sex fantasies, although you had a kinky side to you. But the second you laid your eyes on the various monstrous shapes that the web shop offered, it set something off in you. You just _had_ to have this particular item. It seemed just right for you, that's the most you could explain about it. The weeks before your arrival you'd been looking up stories about demons and women, only to find out you were far from alone with your newfound kink. You had touched yourself, yearning to pleasure yourself with something new, imagining all kind of wild things happening to you. And now, you own it, and you are alone, and you have plenty of time...

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you people find this so fast? o.O

You let your fingers glide over the dildo, noticing that the silicone feels oddly close to real skin. The veins and bulges in it make you wonder how it would feel to have this shoved inside you, violently, being subjected to... You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up and berating yourself for a moment. How did you become this depraved? And yet... You bite your lip as you pick up the dildo, wash it thoroughly and take it to you bedroom.  
You hadn't actually glued anything to the wall, that was a tongue-in-cheek lie, but it was true that the shelves in your room were stacked full of statues and gaming memorabilia. Secretly you kind of enjoyed the thought that the figurines were watching you when you touched yourself, adding spice to your excitement.  
Well, tonight they'd be in for a treat.

You undress and slouch onto the bed, the rooms temperature being cozy warm. You knew the package would arrive this evening so you had everything prepared. The new bottle of lube stands on your nightstand and you keep an eye on it, wondering how much you'd need. But the last few days, you'd been exceptionally horny, so you doubt it will be opened. When your fingers glide between your legs, you softly moan when you feel how sensitive and slick you already are, the light touch of your fingers enough to send a pleasant prickle through your hips. Your fingers start to glide in between your lower lips, spreading them and massaging the sensitive spots with slow, tender movements, slowly moving your hips into your penetrating hands.

Happy sighs escape you when you relax under your own fondling, and you finally reach out to the dildo when you feel just fingers wouldn't satisfy you.

You pause when the weight falls into your hand, pondering over how you will push the shaft into you. You decide to sit up, on your knees, and push yourself down onto it. As always, your imagination gets the best of you once you start playing with yourself, and when you start exploring the dildo with your fingers and lips, you can't help but depicting yourself naked and chained, at the knees of something big and terrible, waiting for you to pleasure it while it looks down on you...

You close your eyes, flustered and feeling slightly guilty. You're so glad to be alone, that no one can see you, playing out your dirty fantasies. Then you let go of these thoughts when you let your tongue roll over the shaft, imagining it to be throbbing and twitching under your touch, and your master growling pleased at you. When you finally take it in your mouth, you moan loudly, your sensitivity between your legs increasing. You want it in you, soon, but you need to be prepared and moisturize it so it won't hurt you. At least not too much. One of your most beloved perversions is, after all, the feeling of being forced open, having something big slide inside you, feeling small and helpless against the whims of a dominant person looming over you...

Abruptly deciding this is enough preamble, you place the dildo under you and adjust your position so it can slide inside you easily. It is so big though, bigger than you had expected it to be, and definitely the most massive thing you'd ever put inside you. You breathe nervously, and then, again, your imagination runs wild. Your fantasy leads you naked in a chamber, your unearthly master sitting before you and lifting your chin with a sharp nail under it, beckoning you closer. You use your own hands to strengthen the mental image and let the nails dig into the soft flesh under your skin, closing your eyes in ecstasy. You are forced to sit on top of your master, his bulky body spreading your vulnerable legs wide open, his claws digging into your hips, not hard enough to hurt you, but rough enough to scratch you and make shivers run down your spine. Then his big hands would push you down onto him and tear you apart, burying his thick shaft deep inside you...

The dildo is put against your opening and you almost buck your hips into it, wanting it into you _now_ , your lust getting the best of you. A hoarse breath escapes you when the tip is forced into your folds, already filling you to the brim with not even half of the dildo burying itself inside you. A cry escapes you and a tear forms – you went too fast. Yet, the pain and lust intermingle, and the little bulges and veins scrape against your inside and you find yourself wanting more, deeper, harder. You try to relax and push yourself onto it once more, crying out again. This feels so much better than you thought it would.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Each time you sink into the phallus, it becomes harder to think straight. The bulges on the side make you gasp and moan for breath, and the thorns on the base scrape past your sensitive ass. Your hips move with short, terse movement, pushing you deeper and spreading you more open with each thrust. Your climax is near and you decide you want to savor this. The imaginary claws that wrap themselves around you pull you closer to the huge body of your master, that you can almost feel and see through your half-closed eyelids. You let go of reason and with one last, thrust, you push yourself deeper onto the dildo, almost pushing yourself up to the base onto it.  
You scream and grasp between your legs, both the pain and overwhelming pleasure making you lose force in your legs. You roll up in a ball, your hips still heaving, grasping the dildo with both ends, desperately fingering yourself around the sturdy object. A shaky whine escapes you when a dull pang shoot through your lower stomach, realizing you might have hurt yourself, yet the waves of pleasure keep dashing through your body. It takes a long time before you calm down.

After you stop convulsing, you very carefully reach in between your legs, pulling the monstrous dildo out of you, winching at the feeling of it parting from you. When you check your drenched fingers, you spot a few drops of red on your fingers. You let your head fall back and sigh, still fondling yourself. It must have been minutes since your orgasm and yet, you're still sensitive. Each touch and stroke makes you quiver and sigh. It hurt, but lords, that was worth it. Rolling up to the side, you doze off, basking in a careless afterglow.

 

* * *

 

It's been a week since you used the dildo, and you've avoided touching it up to now, scared that you would hurt yourself again. The day after you used it, stings went through your abdomen and you winced each time you sat down. The second day after, the pain was mostly gone, leaving an aching feeling inside you. It took just another day for you to start longing for more, and you kept blushing and being distracted at work when you imagined what else fantasies you could indulge in as soon as you got home. You promised yourself to have an even better time tonight. Since it was Friday, you couldn't say no to a few drinks after work, and your head felt slightly dizzy when you walked the dark streets. Even in your slight intoxicated state, you were wary of your surroundings and crossed the street as soon as you saw another person approach.

Finally, you arrive at your flat, nervously fumbling with the keys. You let out a shaky sigh when you lock the door behind you and relax, leaning your back against the door for a short time. Realizing you are alone now, you start playing the scenario in your head that you liked the most. The hall disappeared and made place for wide plains, with bright starts speckling the sky overhead. It would have been peaceful, had it not been for the sounds behind you. Monsters were chasing you and you ran for your life, jumping over small rocks and bushes to try and stay ahead. You took two steps on the stairs at a time, mimicking how you would run if this were real. When your door came in sight, you imagined were captured, a heavy net thrown over you, making you crash into the earth. As soon as you lock the door of your flat behind you, you act as if something heavy is put on top of you and you let yourself fall into the ground. No one was living below you at the time, so you cry out as well, then giggle, feeling silly at yourself. But then you imagine strong claws picking you up by the limbs, and hoarse voices cheering for your capture, and you bite your lip, your tights pressed together.

You get up and walk to your bedroom to turn up the heating, taking a short break from your fantasies. When you walk into your tiny kitchen, you grab a glass of water and a quick snack, trying to get rid of your dizziness. It was just a few pints of cider and a cocktail, but the lack of food made the alcohol work quickly. Your body feels warm and lazy, willing to submit to lewder fantasies than usual. You turn off the light in the kitchen and return to your room, shakily closing the curtains and turning on a soft light. Next you know, a heavy push smacks you down on the bed, and the room changes into the same sinister throne room you saw before you earlier. You are forced to kneel in front of you master, the one you tried to run from, yet he wouldn't let you go. His dark eyes are stinging, his sharp smile cruel and relishing.

“You dare run from me, human? After the pleasure we shared, the honor I gave you to share the seed of my loins?”

You shiver under the words, ashamed and aroused at the same time, knowing an entire room of guards and otherworldly slaves is watching you as well. You shake your head and bow into the soft sheets, barely recognizing your voice when it comes out.

“I beg of you, please let me go. I'm afraid I might die if I stay.”

A cackling laugh is sent through the room, echoing on the cold stone.

“I will not let you go. And you will be punished, my little human, for trying to escape my grasp.”

Your eyes widen when he beckons you closer and rough claws grab your arms, forcing you up the stairs. You tremble when you straighten your back on the bed, slightly wobbly still, facing your lord, whose dark, burning eyes glide all over your frame. He leans forward and picks up the shackles, chuckling in a low rumble when he sees your desperate reaction, how you try to run again. Then the chains clank shut around your wrists, feet, and lastly, your neck. Both his hands lie warm and heavy under your chin, his claws softly pricking you when they stroke past your teary jaws. Your breath has become shallow and you feel through your clothes how insanely wet you've gotten.

“You're mine, sweet human, to use as I see fit. You should bask in this glory instead of trying to run from it.”

You cry out when his hands glide down and rip off your lower clothing, revealing your naked bottom to the room. When you try to buck away, his hands grasp your hips and pull you up the throne, and you feel his teeth and lips pressing into your front, violently entering you with his slithering tongue. Your ass shakes when you press your fingers inside you and you heave on the bed, almost coming right there. You leave one hand on your throat and pinch lightly, imitating the feeling of the metal band around it. The only sounds in the room are your sighs and moans when you pound into the sheets, feeling the urge for something bigger inside you rise.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, seriously, I have a question for my readers. Why are you people coming from? This was posted barely a week when it passed 1000 views, and I never posted it anywhere else o.O  
> I mean, I'm grateful, but I don't get the attention :D :D I'd love to know where you visit from :o

You thrust forward as hard as you can, pinning yourself on your stretched fingers, yet it is barely enough to scratch this itch you're having. Your hips lewdly shock when you roll to the side, clenching onto your hand while groaning. It's almost too embarrassing to continue this fantasy. Yet you close your eyes and clasp the sheets, breathing shallowly into them, your chest rising and falling rapidly.  
Pressing your other hand into your back, you imagine being held into place while a demonic tongue continues to slither in and out of your vulnerable sex, bucking your hips despite your fear and disgust. The demon below you laughs when he feels your reaction. When you out a hoarse cry and grab hold onto one of his horns, he pauses and grabs your head, bringing your face closer to his. You stare back at him through misty eyes, shivering in his grasp, worn down by the weight of the heavy chains. From close up, you can see his eyes, molten amber with black specks in them, his pupils dilated, his breathing deep and heavy. He's just as horny as you are, his physique just better at hiding his arousal than yours. A thought shoots through you - if you were a demon as well, you would probably consider him handsome.

He bares a row of too sharp teeth, grinning at you, and his low voice is rough when he whispers to you.

“I could take you right here and now, in front of all my folk, and let them take turns in using you.”

You vaguely can make out jeers and yelling behind you. A shiver runs through you again – would he really be so cruel?

“Or you could be a sweet, obedient pet, and enjoy the intimacy of my quarters, and the girth of my loins alone. The choice is yours."

Tears well up in your eyes when your imagination gets the best of you and you lose yourself in the possibility of this really happening. Then again, the choice is an easy one.

“Please,” you utter hoarsely, “don't do that to me. I beg you... I will obey. I won't run away anymore. Please, anything but be passed around like that.”

You chuckle for a moment for using ornate language. You'd never talk to someone like that, but it's just too easy to get lost in your imagination like this. Then the amber eyes dawn before you and your concentration wavers, your fingers entering you again, teasing, stroking yourself. In your fantasy, two claws are wrapped surprisingly delicate around you and you are lifted up, the loose chains dangling in the air and weighing you down in the demon lords embrace. Without further commentary, he ascends from his throne, and in a blink of thought, you've arrived at his quarters, skipping the unnecessary, unarousing walk. On second thought, being carried in someone's arms, in a situation like that, might be kinky on its own... If you were held like that, proud and hungry eyes gliding over your body, claws softly pressing into your thighs...

Ahh, lordie. Weeks before, you'd never think you'd like to find yourself in this situation, squirming over your bed while imagining some kind of monster taking advantage of you. Then again, why does it feel so damn _good_?  
You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling, stretching out, looking at your soaked fingers that softly glisten in the half-dark. You're about to reach to the side for the main dish when you remember the package and the herbs that came with it. that smoky aroma... Perhaps they could add something extra to your already exotic reveries?

Only one way to find out...

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given that a lot of people like reading this *waves to you from the trash can* I'll just keep updating this I guess.

The floor is colder under your feet than you expected when you enter the kitchen, and the air is cool when you start walking to the counter, where you left the box. Once more you wonder at the odd writing on the lid. It really resembles cuneiform, like on that one old stone. Your fingers glide over the lines, to find it was pressed into the lid. When you open the box, the smell once more wafts into your face, even more intense that the last time you smelled it. The smoky aroma is nothing compared to before when you crack the packet open. It fills your nostrils, almost making you dizzy. Is this meant to be smoked, like incense? You've looked up the text on the paper online, and no results came back.

You decide to follow your gut and just go ahead with it. You find a copper tray in the cupboard and head back to your room, sighing when you're developed in the pleasant warmth again. You press your legs impatiently together when you pour some of the herbs in the copper tray, careful not to use too much – who knows what this stuff is. It doesn't look like peyote, so that's probably the biggest danger out of the way. Yet, you can't be too careful. You doubt a company selling demonic dildos would be in the business of killing their clients or making them go insane though. You chuckle nervously when you light a match and set the herbs on fire, immediately making the dry compounds light up and further spread their scent. It's deep and savory, a thick essence that seems to cling to your lips and skin, making you feel lightheaded – not like a high, more like an adrenalin rush.

After observing the herbs for a bit and making sure they don't spread embers, you move back to the bed, hungry for satisfaction. When you settle on your back, it hits you – could they have meant those herbs to be your partners scent? If that's the intention, they did a good job on it. You could definitely see the... Lord spreading this kind of scent if he were to... to...  
You shake your head again, amused at how easily you can drift away. You stretch out your hands and glide over your sheets, relishing the caresses of the fabric against your skin and your stiff nipples. It would be different if you were wearing shackles, no?  
A last glance to your nightstand confirms that the herbs are behaving, and your artificial partner – well, _part_ of him – is ready for your misbehaving. They you roll onto your back, roughly, pretending to be in someones private quarters.

He would tower over you, tearing off his own robes, grinning down at you while you would cower in dread. Then he would climb on top of you, pushing your knees apart and opening yourself up for him, his claws sinking into the soft flesh of your thighs and hips. Your hand would instinctively fly forward and try to push him away from you, to no avail. You can almost feel the scales and leathery skin under your fingers, pushing hard against you when he leans forward, enjoying your small cries when he strokes his erection against your lower lips. You're helplessly wet, powerless against the attraction you have for him, despite your fear. You quickly grab the dildo and position yourself so you can insert it easily, then clench your eyes shut again.

You whimper when you feel teeth scratching over your breasts, and the too long tongue slithering over your painfully stiff nipples, writhing and crying out when you feel the hot tongue working over you. His body is warmer than yours, and it feels as if his touch is scalding your skin. And yet, he hasn't entered you, but merely keeps teasing you. Does he know that you enjoy his touch more than you let through? He's proven to be clever, wicked even.  
When you open your eyes, his amber gaze is floating above you, taking you in. His grin betrays that he deeply enjoys your struggling, your weak fighting against his obvious strength. His massive head lowers while he grasps your wrists and pulls your arms back, his teeth enveloping your breasts. Oh god, if he were to bite you right now... You cry in despair, not wanting him to hurt you. You start begging him again, but he doesn't harm you. He glides lower, his tongue descending in between your legs again, and you start trembling when he pushes it inside you, coiling it around your bud and lips, to the point where you start making incoherent shrieks, pushing your hips against his face. Then he brusquely pulls himself back and you shock in anguish, your stomach feeling painful from the denied orgasm. The demon looms over you again, putting his huge hand next to your chin and tracing the line up to your cheek. He cocks his head and strokes away a tear, bringing it up to his mouth and tasting it.

“You humans are fascinating. Every single taste of you just makes me want you more. Beg me for it.”

The demons voice has become a growl, and his shoulders swell up, his muscles bulging from the tension he puts on them. His claws dig into the fabric next to your head and you can practically feel the sharp nails ripping the sheets apart. Then his lowers his head into yours, nudging your cheek with his scaly nose. He's almost tender. Almost.

“Beg me for it,” he rumbles, his claws endlessly patient tracing your sides, his teeth pressing slight marks on your skin when he bites you softly, just not hard enough to pierce. At fear of going insane, you succumb.

“Oh lord... Please... I can't...”

He stops and looks down to you, grabbing your hips and roughly pulling you up to him. His cock is twitching at the sight of you below him, but yet, he does not give in.

“Not good enough. Beg. Me. For it.”

Each word has become a snarl, and you cry out when he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. The skin below his nails is oddly soft, like warm, thin leather, and he uses just that part to stroke past your lips, molding them to his touch. You whimper, your voice barely audible.

“Please my Lord... Take me...”

A shiver of pleasure rushes through the demon looming over you and he snorts triumphant, grinning his sharp teeth bare. You move the dildo up between your legs, the point of it pushing your lips apart. Just the touch of it makes you roll your head back and whimper, for real. Then you push harder, driving the thick rod inside you, frantically pushing harder when you feel it hitting you right where you want it. Your hips jerk forward to meet it and have it penetrate you harder, deeper, more violent, the shaft opening you up until your sight becomes hazy and your breath ragged. Fuck, this feels insanely good. The image of your demon lord flutters by your vision, him cooing cruel things in your ear why you whimper and cry, and despite his violence, relish in the pleasure he brings you while his teeth and claws make marks all over your body.

You turn to your stomach, desperate to feel it deeper inside you and try to fasten the dildo to the head end of your bed, sticking it to the wood. You wail when you impale yourself again, the shaft hitting you in new places, the scales and tiny horns bumping against your ass and further pushing you to the edge. This time, you don't hold back and thrust your hips while spreading your legs open as wide as you can, ramming yourself against the head end. Then it happens. Something inside you breaks, and you can no longer think straight. Your vision becomes a blur and you can barely breathe anymore, feeling feverish and wildly moving your hips back and forth. You continue until you black out from pure pleasure, overwhelmed by waves of pleasure rolling out from your center onto the rest of your body in a vicious surge.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I found out that teratophilia is a thing, that I'm apparently am horribly suffering from. I'm enjoying every second of it XD  
> Have fun, the next chapter is up :)  
> I doubt I surprised anyone with this...

When you come by, the room is filled with a weird scent. You lazily flick your eyelids, the lashes feeling sticky. While trying to shake off your sluggishness, you become aware that you're not lying on your sheets. Instead, you notice an almost reptile-like skin right below your eyes. A warm, leathery, living and breathing _thing_ lies below you, and a big hand is stroking your back.

Stunned, you raise your head as slow as you can, scared of what you might find.

It, no, _he_ is not exactly like you imagined, and yet, he looks all too familiar. A pair of amber, black-speckled eyes look at you, and his smile reveals a row of too sharp teeth when it greets you.

“It's good to see you awake.”

You instantly shriek and push yourself away, rolling back over the lower end of the bed and crashing onto the ground. When you try to push yourself up, you slip and fall into the door frame, painfully hitting your head. You exclaim again, grabbing your head while frantically trying to get the door open. Behind you the bed creaks and you hear the thing shout, trying to call you back. Finally, the cool air of your kitchen washes against you and you run forward, hastening to the front door as fast as you can. Before you can reach it, it catches up to you and slams a bulky hand over the knob, blocking your only way out.

You step back, looking up at him, scared out of your mind. It's a demon, there's no other word to describe it. A male one too, there's no denying his naked physique. He has horns and scales, and those eyes...  
The demon straightens his back, but stays where he is, looking at you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. You get a better look at him in the light of the kitchen than before, and you shiver. His skin is dark red, intricate patterns of black freckles and spots adorning his bulky, muscled mass. In the area of his neck, golden, shimmering pigmentation adorns his skin, further running up his skull. He has several black, gleaming horns on top of his head and his face is oddly human, with a few differences except for some scales on its cheekbones. It almost makes him look kind.  
You shake your head in denial. This can't be real. This just can't be real. Those were some fucked-up herbs and you bet the company you ordered from is not going to hear the end of this, you'll sue them and-

“That wasn't the welcome I expected.”

He sounds is unexpectedly warm, spiced with humor. He's got a baritone voice, and the words come out with an odd accent, some tones almost a hiss. Your jaw drops and you shake your head again, not understanding what is going on. You must be dreaming, even though your pounding head is telling you otherwise. Then you notice you've reached the far end of the living room, and the curtains at the window that glide against your back. There's nowhere to escape to.

To your surprise, the demon sighs and shakes his head, looking tired, and very old, for a reason you can't pinpoint.

“Actually, that's the kind of welcome that I've been through a couple of times.”

You frown at the words, while looking for something that you can defend yourself with. The closest thing is a beanbag which certainly won't do, and the second closest thing is a very thirsty looking cactus, a gift from your mother. The demon follows your gaze and starts laughing, a very loud, bellowing sound that causes his chest to heave. A wail escapes you at the sight. You slump against the window, sinking to the floor, hugging yourself in fear. The demon stops when it sees your reaction and walks closer to you. You whimper and shake your head, pressing yourself against the wall as if it will swallow you and hold you safe.

He crouches in front of you, slowly bringing up his arms to your head. Your whole body stiffens up and you can barely breathe anymore. Then his warm, surprisingly soft hands envelop your head and he gently lifts your face, making you look at him. From close by, the amber eyes are hypnotizing, and you can't make yourself look away, lest blink.

“Let me take care of that for you.”

The demons hums softly, the music sounding strangely familiar. Something in the air before you crackles, embers of pale light flickering and sizzling, weaving an odd pattern. Soon after, the demons hands part from your skin again. Your headache is gone.  
The corners of his mouth tug when you sees your confused stare and he stands back up, reaching a hand out to you. The palms are a pale alabaster color, and black scales with a blue hue cover the upper side of his hand, of which the fingers end in long black nails. When you look up at his face, he kindly nods to you.

“I don't mean you any harm. Quite the opposite of that.”

You rub your temples, through and through confused. He just touched you. He's real. Everything about this is real.

“Please, Y/N. We need to talk.”

After contemplating the demon's stretched out hand for a few more seconds, you finally reach out yours as well, hesitant.

 


	7. Chapter 7

His thumb softly caresses your fingers when your hand lands in his, and the demon helps you get up. He turns around to your room and walks back, and it's only then you notice he has a tail. It swishes, hovering right above the floor. It's in the same colors as the rest of him, a rich, dark red color speckled with black, a light alabaster skin on the underside. When your eyes travel up the back of the demon, you notice the skin has more short spikes on his back, all gleaming a dark blue color. He's very tall, and muscular as well. If he were human...  
You brusquely shake your head at that thought, forcing yourself to stop thinking about that. No way. Just... No.  
The demon has stopped at the doorway and looks back at you, waving you to come over. When he sees the fear and hesitation in your face, he frowns, then gently speaks.

“I really am not going to do anything to you. I promise. It's just... you're still naked, and it's warm in your room...”

With a shock you realize it's true. While running for your life earlier, clothes weren't exactly your first priority. With a startled sound, you try to shield your body from the demon's amused gaze.

“A bit of a shame you need to wear clothes. You're a beautiful woman Y/N.”

You swear at the remark and before you realize, you've run past him into your bedroom and snatch a robe from your closet. You didn't realize up to now, but it was cold in the kitchen, and you suppress a shiver while you wrap the cloth around you. All the while, you keep an eye on the demon, who now has closed the door behind him and has slumped down on the wall, staring with interest at you. At one point, he smiles and shakes his head, looking to the side. His upper lip is pitch black, while the lower one is freckled, and his sharp teeth are ivory white.

“...What?”

Despite you being scared shitless, you feel annoyed at the gesture. Is he making fun of you?

“Humans and modesty are amusing. ...And you reminded me of someone.”

You lean onto one leg and cross your arms, just staring at the demon. He stays quiet and just looks back at you. Somehow, this... thing is trying his best to put you at ease.  
Your anger is getting the best of you at this point, like it always does when you're scared.

“Why are you real? Why is this real?”

Your brow furrows, and you hear yourself getting louder.

“I could feel you. This is not a dream, I realize that much. What do you want? Are you going to kill me?”

Finally, that seems to upset the demon, and he rises while growling loudly. The sound is so loud you actually feel it vibrating in your chest. You cry out and jump back, only to be met by a wall in your back. The demon immediately calms down when he sees your reaction and stumbles forward, reaching out to you and grabbing your hands. In what straight up bewilders you, a hot kiss is pressed onto your trembling hands, and the demon leans his head into you, sighing heavily.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

You try to pull back your hands, but this time, he doesn't let go. Instead, he gets up and leads you to the bed despite your struggling, making you sit down on it. As soon as you sit down, he steps back and leaves a good measure of space in between you. You feel closer to crying than to shouting, worn out by the rush of emotions that you've been through tonight.  
The demon inhales and looks at you with his hypnotizing gaze, then starts talking.

“I know you must have a lot of questions. That this might seem dangerous to you. That _I_ might look dangerous to you.” He smiles shortly, amused at implying you might feel otherwise, despite your reactions up to now.

“It's a very long story. One that started a long time ago, with a very talented, sweet woman, who was very lonely. Danae was her name.”

You blink at the demon, brows furrowed, hugging yourself. He continues, more relaxed when he sees you're listening.

“There was a time me and my kind roamed freely and ..attacked humans. Killing the men and...” he pauses, considering what to say next.

“...There was a small city, guarded by a few strong men, armed with holy weapons. They took out a whole legion of my kind, suffering losses theirselves. In that city lived a witch, a young woman. She was scorned, barely tolerated because she knew how to heal people. They weren't kind for her.”

The demon's face darkens. Even if it happened a long time ago, he seems to remember it all very clearly. He reprises after uttering a soft growl, staring at a spot on your wall.

“After healing the men who were wounded in the attack, she heard about the location of the remains of my kind. Right before they opened the city gates and went to burn the corpses of my brethren, she sneaked out and collected a heart from one of the fallen. And with an offer of her own blood, she resurrected me, for the sole purpose of being her companion.”

You stare at the demon with wide eyes, for a moment forgetting your situation, being sucked in by the story. You're awarded with a sad smile that makes a pang shoot through your chest.

“I told you she was a very talented woman. I was bound to her through my heart and her blood, which resulted in giving me an eternal soul. Meaning I would live on after she passed away. Even though our time together was a lifetime's span, it seemed all too short...”

His baritone quiets until you can barely hear him anymore.

“Through our journeys, we met... cultists, as you would call them, who were sympathetic to our cause. After she died, they took me in, lulling me to sleep, transforming me into an object that would attract the next companion for me.”

He then looks up at you, his gaze piercing, and you shock at the impact it has on you.

“I've lived many lifetimes, and have been the faithful companion of a select few. And now...”

Before he can finish the sentence, you bring your hand to your mouth, covering your shocked expression. You dread what's about to come.

“And now, I'm here, for you.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that cliffhanger at the end :''')  
> I'll try to write the next chapter a bit faster XD

You just sit there, stunned at the story, at the weight of his words. If all this is true, if even half of this is true... You raise your head, swallowing hard. The demon stares back at you, seemingly uncomfortable under your inquiring gaze.

“Can I send you away?”

You almost regret what you just said when you see how the demon's expression changes. He seems worn and dejected, and he has a pained frown when he replies.

“You can. There's a ritual to follow, but it's not very complicated.”

Realizing he just truthfully answered, you falter before asking the next question.

“Were you and her... The witch. Were you... lovers?”

The demon nods, warily observing you.

“That, and more. I was her companion, created to help and protect her through her life.”

He looks at the side, staring in the distance. Is he reliving memories? You shudder at the thought of what this means.

“...How many have rejected you?”

The demon sharply looks up at you, a faint anger boiling in his eyes.

“None. I proved my worth to anyone I met soon enough.”

You reach halfheartedly to your head, remembering that he just healed you.

“I'm... I'm sorry. Thank you for just now. I was... I am... scared. It's not every day that you meet a...”

Your hands helplessly gesture, trying to grasp words out of thin air.

“...Do you have a name?”

The demon smiles at you, and another pang shoots through your chest. Why is he having this effect on you?

“I'm to be given a name by you.”

He relaxes his posture and changes his stance, at which you're visually reminded of the fact that you're not the only one who's barely clothed. You hastily look to the side and back to him, confirming that indeed, down below he looks very much the same as the dildo you bought. Only, his would be warm and...  
You instantly slap both of your hands against your cheeks, the sharp pain sending a shock through you, while you tell yourself to snap out of it. The demon jumps up while looking worried.  
You hold up a hand to stop him and shake your head.

“I'm... Okay. I'm trying to focus here. On... All of this.”

He backs off, nodding wisely, as if he perfectly knows what you're going through.

“Could you... Do you have clothing?”

You hiss when you hear how shrill your voice is, but the demon seems just slightly amused by the question.

“I was just born again. I didn't bring anything with me, except for my memory and my talents.”

His talents, from which you deduce he can do more than just heal people. You hastily get up and walk to the closet again, rummaging through your older clothes until you find a torn pair of sweatpants that _might_ fit him, as well as an oversized T-shirt that you use to sleep in.

“Here.”

You throw the clothes on the bed near him, not feeling comfortable enough to get close to the demon again.

“Thank you, Y/N. You're a kind lady.”

The word use makes you frown, and while the demon struggles to get into the clothes, you ask him another question.

“You're welcome, I guess. How...How long has it been since you were brought into sleep again?”

“... I think it was around 1917. There was a war. He... My companion died too soon.”

You blink at the demon, stupefied by this new piece of information.

“Your last lover was a man?”

Something in the gaze that's directed at you makes you falter and forget about any more questions.

“Yes, he was. And we weren't lovers. He wasn't interested in that kind of relationship, although I offered it.”

The demon finally managed to get into the pants, and looks questioningly at the shirt. He folds it up again, and while holding it with both hands, he extends it to you.

“I can't put this on without destroying it, and I think you may be attached to this. I don't want to tear it up.”

His concern for something as simple as a worn shirt moves you more than you'd like to admit, and you hesitantly reach out to take the shirt back. His huge hands gently lower the folded cloth into your outstretched palms, returning the shirt to you. Suddenly, the demon becomes anxious again.

“Can I please have a name? ...I feel more naked without a name than without clothes.”

The baritone is sweet and gentle, the words pleading. The name parts from your lips before you realize it.

“Damien.”

Immediately, the demon straightens his back and looks brighter. He pronounces the name a few times, as if tasting it, and finally nods in confirmation.

“Yes. _Damien_. I like it. Thank you, Y/N.”

His enthusiasm is almost childlike and you can't help but smile back at him. Even though he looks intimidating, he seems... Nice? Somewhat?

Damien starts looking around the room, seemingly fascinated by the rack of figurines on your wall. He gets up and walks towards it, the heavy muscles bulging out in your former pants. In the back, you notice he didn't get the tail in, and he rather let it dangle above the belt. Even in the dim lights of your room, the golden freckles on his back shimmer, as if his hide is illuminated from within. He's a fascinating creature, to say the least.

“Are these your gods?” asks Damien, while pointing at the shelves.

You smile back at him and shake your head.

“Not exactly. Those are figurines... Statues of characters from books and games that I like,” you try to explain. “You can collect those. Do you like them?”

The amber eyes shift between you and the shelf, and Damien carefully picks something up – a dragon statue – to study it from closer by. A sharp nail carefully glides over the scales and the gaping jaw, before Damien puts the figurine back and returns his attention to you.

“Times sure have changed. I'm used to getting chased out and being treated violently – people trying to _kill_ me - when I'm reborn. Instead, there's a lovely young woman waiting for me, adorning her quarters with dragons and books, giving me a great name. I think I like this age. And you.”

You blush softly at the compliments, not used to someone being so straightforward with you. Damien walks closer to you, an inquiring stare fixated on you this time.

“Y/N, I just wondered. Under what shape did I arrive here?”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn some more about Damien and what he can do.

Immediately a heat rises to your cheeks, and you brusquely turn away, stammering incoherently. Damien makes a questioning sounds behind you and walks up to you. You helplessly look up at him, not knowing what to say, feeling embarrassed. The demon's ears are twitching with nervosity. I hadn't noticed them before, but his ears are long and pointy, almost like what elf ears would look like – except Damien's ears are a deep red, freckled with a darker shade of red near the tip. Damien crouches in front of you, grabbing your hand – just hard enough that you can't pull it back, but his grasp gentle enough not to hurt you. Your hand twitches nervously in his bigger palm, like a mouse in a trap.

“I'm here to serve you and to help you. To protect you and ensure your luck. I'm not here to judge. Don't be scared of telling me things.”

You stare back, hypnotized by the sheer golden beauty of his eyes. His skin feels warm from up close, as if fire courses through his veins. You're barely aware of his both hands gliding up to your face, his palms cupping both your cheeks. When his face comes closer, you feel a faint panic setting in, yet you stay motionless, as if under a spell. Your breathing turns ragged when you feel the demon's heat washing over your skin, your thoughts a mess of questions and imagery. He's touching you. This fantasy that came alive, this creature that was just a figment of your imagination this morning.

Damien halts right in front of you, and the way his eyes glide over your face, you realize he's studying you. His eyes halts on your lips and he tilts his head lightly, as if he will kiss you. The panic grows, but he stops himself before you can push him away. He makes a noise as if he's in pain and bows his head again, resting his head on your lap. Stunned, you reach out, not yet knowing if it's to push him away or console him. As soon as you touch his sleek horns, you come back to your sense. Damien is huge, so it isn't easy to push him away, but he obeys as soon as you put force in your palms. He stays sitting at your feet though, taking you in pensively. You flinch when he speaks to you again, noticing his sharp teeth from close by.

“I know you were pleasuring yourself when I came by. I didn't abuse the situation, I just kept you warm while you were recovering. It takes energy out of people when I get summoned. That's why you might feel a little weak now.”

You feel blood rushing in your ears when he mentions your masturbating. You might as well let him know at this point. Get it all out at once.

“It was a dildo.”

“What was a... Oh.”

Damien's frown clears up, making way for a broad grin. His smile is all flickering sharp teeth. You slap a hand over your face, trying to avoid his inquiring gaze.

“I see. That's... Interesting, to say the least.” He chuckles, sounding all too pleased with the situation to your liking. You snap back at him.

“Don't you think I will let you have your way with me!”

Damien simply shakes his head and shrugs, his hands lifted in the air. The claws they end in look sharp and deadly. He wouldn't be able to touch you without even wounding you, probably.

“That's not how it works, at all. I'm your servant. I'm to follow your order, whether I like it or not.” His gaze is thoughtful for a moment.

“But I'm sure that you wouldn't tell me to do something immoral. You seem like a sweet girl, Y/N.”  
You frown and mull over what he just told you. Is he really to obey your every word?  
“For starters, you're not to touch me under any circumstance. ...Unless I make clear it's okay. You got that?”

Damien nods, staring at you with an inscrutable gaze. You notice he is observing you, taking in your whole figure. You press your knees together, insecure under his inquisitive eyes.

“And no tricks. You will do nothing to mislead me, hurt me, make me fall into a trap. Nothing of that kind.”

At this, Damien slowly nods and turns to you with a serious voice.

“I that case, I have to tell you that you can send me away not earlier than two weeks after my first appearance. The ritual requires a big amount of energy from me, energy I don't have at this very moment. It takes time to gather.”

This is unexpected. Two whole weeks....

“I've heard your commands and I will serve you accordingly.”

He rubs his giant hands together.

“Where do I get to sleep?”

*******************************************

 

It becomes the pullout couch, with some additional blankets and a table slid closer to support Damien's feet. You've never seen someone as big as him. Even when he curls himself up on the couch, wrapping his scaly legs under him and rolling up his tail, the couch seems ridiculously small under him. Damien pulls a sheet closer, only covering him until the waist up, rolling onto his back. When he stretches, you can't resist looking at his body again. If he were a human, he'd have the body of a god. Tall and sinewy, well-proportioned all over. The muscles that move on his chest and stomach leave no doubt about how strong this creature is. How would it have been for his past... companions to lay with him? How would it feel for _you_ to be touched by those hands, to be pressed against that broad chest?  
You turn your head to the side, rubbing your temples. Those thoughts don't seem to go away and you grow more frustrated each time you try to keep yourself in check. It's then that you see Damien is looking at you, smiling mysteriously.

“What?”

The demon shakes his head and chuckles lowly. The sound reminds you of a distant thunder.

“I was just thinking I'm lucky. To be here, in this time and place, with someone such as you. It feels safe.”

The thought of something as strong and terrifying-looking as Damien feeling the need for a shelter hits a sore spot in you. After a few seconds, you hesitantly answer his smile.

“That's good to hear. I mean. That's...” You sigh, scowling and rubbing your temples again.

Damien perks up, eager to offer help.

“If you've got a headache, I can take care of that for you.” His voice sounds hopeful.

“No... Thank you, but I'm okay. I'm going to bed now.” You eye him warily.

“Good night, I guess.”

“Good night Y/N. If you want to, I'll make sure you dream well.”

That might have sounded creepy, if it wasn't for the specific way that he said it.

“You have an influence on dreams?”

His freckled head bobs up and down, and he grins broadly.

“On dreams, and to your environment, in a way. Think of me as channeling you good luck.”

“Really.”

It's too much to take in. Who knows if he's lying to make an impression on you, to get you to trust him. All you want at this moment is to sleep and get away from this absurd situation. You step into your room and close the door behind you, turning the key. It won't hold him, but it's something, at least. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done so already. What else he wants, you will deal with tomorrow.   
The bed creaks below you when you crawl between the sheets, eyeing the ceiling with worried eyes. Sleep welcomes you soon after.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly keep being baffled at how much attention this story gets. I guess I'm less lonely with my dark, filthy thoughts than I thought I was :')  
> Welcome into the trash club, we're getting cozy! 
> 
> Inspiration for the bacon came from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dT5ALH3ICTc&

When you lazily blink in the dark, it seems that morning has already come. A few strands of light stream through the closed curtains while you slowly roll over to your side. A few stretches, a satisfied groan, and then a nagging feeling awakes along with you. Wasn't there something that you were to deal with? Something important?

You shrug after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. You dreamed so well last night, too... What was it about again? Another stretch and roll almost make you tumble out of bed and you decide to get up. You rub your eyes when you walk into the living room and blink slowly at the pullout couch looking like a mess. Then your gaze glides to the right, to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh breakfast is coming from. Your eyes fall to rest on a broad red back, adorned with black and golden freckles, a myriad of short spikes protruding from the gleaming skin.  
You shriek, a shrill sound, painful to your own ears, and stumble back into your room, tripping backwards and falling in between your bed and your closet with a loud thud. Footsteps and worried cries approach your door and before you know it, Damien has entered the room, staring in confusion and worry down at you.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

It finally dawns on you then. Yesterday was not a dream. The big, red, burly demon in front of you is very, very real, and here to stay for the next two weeks. A big hand is reached out to you, and you take it before you realize it, still disoriented from just have woken up. His grasp is warm and firm around your hand, and he helps you stand, gentle and caring - not something you’d attribute to something as scary looking as him.

“Damien.”

“Yes Y/N?”

“I… Nothing. I thought I was dreaming.”

“I have that effect.”

A broad grin spreads over Damien’s face, making him almost look boyish. His face is so close to that of a human, yet so different. You just shake your head and try to calm your heart down, drowsily staggering on your feet.

“I made breakfast for you.”

That earns him another surprised look from you, and he is eager to guide you to the kitchen and help you seat. The next you know, Damien puts a plate of grilled bacon and eggs in front of you, freshly grilled toast accompanying the hearty meal. And you have to grant it him - it smells and looks delicious.

“How did you… Did they have gas stoves a hundred years back?”

“Not exactly. But I woke up early and figured it out by myself.”

Damien sounds profoundly proud to himself. He’s much more intelligent than you gave him credit for, you realize. What does that mean for you? Can he outsmart you and trick you into something you don’t want to? Could you trust him with your home if you went out and left him alone?

“....cold.”

“Huh?”

You’d gotten lost in thought and had forgotten about your breakfast. Damien repeats his question, carefully picking his words as if not to annoy you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to push you but, I think this will taste best if you eat it warm?”

You stare at your plate and realize he’s right. With a heavy heart, you pick up your utensils and slice off a piece of bacon, hesitantly putting it in your mouth. As soon as you bite down on it, the taste explodes in your mouth and you moan softly, putting a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. You slowly chew again, your juices flowing as you get used to the full taste. It’s the most delicious piece of bacon you’ve ever eaten. What’s that sweet, deep flavor? Brown sugar and rosemary? You finally stop chewing and swallow, deeply enjoying the aftertaste. Damien is shuffling nervously on your right side and you glance at him. Something in the look he gives you makes you skip a heartbeat and blush, and you hastily grab a glass of water that’s set aside for you. The cool water is refreshing and helps you calm down.

“This is amazing.”

You nod at the food, looking back up at Damien. He still has the same look, almost hungry, his pupils dilated when he fixates on you. You swallow, hard, trying to stay calm and ignore the intensity of his gaze. The demon seems to snap out of it and smiles at you, bowing his head gracefully.

“I’m glad to hear that. I didn’t make you anything warm to drink since I don’t know what you prefer yet. Some of my previous companions were very peculiar about their preferred beverages. I didn’t want to waste any of your provisions either.”

You look around at the kitchen. Everything is already stowed away and cleaned, and the kitchen looks immaculate. Did he even sleep at all, last night? You look back at Damien, incredulous.

“Why spend so much effort?”

Damien hesitates, making a wry smile at you.

“Honestly? Because I care for you and I want you to like me as well.”

That gives you a flustered pause, and you stare back down at your plate.

“If…” Your common sense screams at you not to finish the sentence, but you just can’t help yourself. “...if you had free reign now - and I’m not saying I’m giving you it!”

Your exclaim is accompanied by a warning finger and a suspicious scowl at the demon.

“If you were free to do what you wanted to do, what … What would you do?”

Damien shakes his head, obviously reluctant to answer.

“Don’t you know, Y/N?”

Your breath halts as this alien creatures bends himself forward to you, but you shake your head.

“I would pull you onto the table and make you shout the name you’ve given me over and over. I’d bury myself into you until you’d forget you’ve ever longed for a human.”

Damien feverishly licks his lips. His tongue is almost black, you see, long and gleaming. You bite your lip and avert your head, feeling yourself become red under the confession. Why did you even ask?

“...But that would be foolish, alright? This is about trust,” the red demon argues, considering you with a sly look, “and I made you promises. I’m not about to break them.”

Damien makes a sigh so heavy, it’s telling he wished you didn’t make him take those oaths. It takes you everything to stop you from trembling while he gets up. He’s stronger, probably smarter than you, and he’s made very clear what he would do if he had no bounds. A part of you screams to run away, as fast as you can, and another part… Your darkest, innermost part, has you squeezing your legs together under the table, frantically hoping Damien doesn’t notice. Even though you  are sitting, you can feel a heat emanating from your belly, surging up through your spine.  
What if? What if you can trust him? What if he’s truly a perfect companion? You swallow hard, having lost all appetite for breakfast. Damien retracts himself to the couch, looking at a shelf of books, curiously trying to pronounce the titles. You eat without tasting anything, and clean up the table, shooing Damien away when he makes attempts to serve you. When you take to your room again and emerge clothed, Damien seems to be excited.

“Say, Y/N… Can you take me into town? I want to see how the world has changed while I was sleeping.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, I'm inserting a romantic location and all! Only thing missing is talking birds and flowers! 
> 
> Also cardamom and peach or prune are a delicious combination in cake.  
> Something like this: http://savorysweetlife.com/2009/09/sunday-morning-plum-cardamom-coffee-cake-recipe/  
> Haven't tried this exact recipe but it's very similar to another one I tried, which is not in English.

At first you think you misunderstood, and you scoff at Damien.

“People will see you. They will call… They will call the police, the army.”

You pause and eye his horns.

“Probably the Pope as well.”

Damien starts laughing, his broad shoulders shocking.

“Ahh, you’re funny. And you would be right,” he added, “if it wasn’t for one of my tricks, as you might call it.”

The air starts shimmering around the red demon and suddenly you can see _through_ him. Damien almost looks like he is boiling, invisible vapors swiftly obscuring him from your sight. Before you realize what’s happening, the demon is gone. You freeze for a moment, feeling a panic settle in. Then you hear Damien’s voice, coming from straight in front of you.

“I’m still here. Don’t be afraid.”

In an impulse, you lift up your hand and reach forward. Something warm and soft pushes back against your palm, and you realize it’s Damien’s hand. Fighting your instinct, you spread out your fingers, and the air sizzles again, slowly revealing a big red palm pressed against yours, Damiens golden eyes revealing themselves behind his hand. He blinks slowly at you, giving you that deep smile of his. You stare back, fascinated. What more can he do?

“You see, Y/N,” Damien softly whispers at you, ‘I can make sure people don’t notice me.”

And despite the craziness of it all, you smile at him, in awe.

“Woah.”

“So, what do you think? Can we go outside?”

******************************

It took him nagging you for one more hour, but you finally caved. Now you’re walking towards the city center, nervously taking step after step. Your heart is pounding like mad in your chest, afraid that any moment, the spell will break, people will stop and start to scream, fleeing from you. Nothing of that happens, and Damien hums contentedly. The melody is vaguely familiar to you, but you don’t ask.  
With a glance sideways, you confirm Damien is stepping alongside you. You’re not sure how it works, but Damien can reveal himself to you while he’s invisible to others. Something like an illusion? His appearance is a bit faded to you, as if you see him through fog, but you can make him out well enough otherwise.  
He’s walking barefoot, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. His eyes are big and bright, and he points at things, asking you questions. You answer when you’re sure no one is around you. It’s bad enough you’re saddled with this demon. You don’t need people to think you’re mad, too.

Contrary to what you thought, he doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything. Movies you saw, books you read, always depicted time travellers as afraid or skittish, unsure about the new world they landed in. Damien, on the contrary, seems eager to drink it all in. To some of his questions, you can’t answer, which somehow bothers you. Other are easier to answer.  
What are those tiny devices people are holding? How is electricity conducted? Can you really fly to the end of the world now?

The questions just keep coming. Some of them make you smile and reconsider your angle on certain things. Riches are divided in another way than so many years back, that is certain. Technology took a giant leap forward. One of the things that fascinates him the most is television and computers. For some reason, Damien loves the idea of having all the knowledge in the world at his fingertips.  
During his inquiries, you become curious at Damien’s past lives, wondering how he experienced the world back then, living in ages you were taught about at school. You decide, after some thought, to save it for later. Least you know, he just woke up after having lost someone he loved and lived with for a long time. In his stead, you wouldn’t be eager to talk about it. And two more weeks, and he’ll be gone again. Is it even worth building some sort of relationship with him? You try to ignore the guilt that wells up, but it’s hard enough. For how big and intimidating he looks, Damien has more of an energetic puppy than of a malicious monster. You stifle a chuckle and turn your head when Damien throws you a curious glance. That thought, you don’t want to share.

The walk is bringing you closer to one of your favorite spots in town, an old teahouse that offers a variety of desserts along with their drinks. Would Damien behave if you took him to the place? Not that he hasn’t, up to now, but…

“Something on your mind, Y/N?”

Of course he noticed. You’re both annoyed and startled, and it must have showed. Damien backs off and lifts his hands to apologize when he sees your face. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling torn between telling the demon to stay out of your business and on the other hand feeling a desperate sugar craving. And a longing for the strongest cup of tea you can get your hands on.

“If you want me to, I can leave you be at this moment. I’ll head back to the apartment, look around by myself.”

Damien sounds genuinely sorry and you turn to him, lifting your shoulders frustratedly.

“It’s okay. You can stay.”

With another sigh, you crack your neck, relieving some of the tension in it.

“There’s a place close by where I’d like to drink something.”

Suddenly you realize something, and you take in Damien.

“Do you eat, too?”

Damien smiles at you, pleased that you thought of him. Why does he have to be so darn… Disarming? He’s not making any of this easier for you.

“Less than humans though. I eat once a day. Most things are safe for me.”

“Most things?”

“Most things. Holy water gives me a headache.”

Before you can figure out whether he’s joking, you notice a kid staring at you, holding a cone of ice cream. He must have been standing there for some time, given the amount of ice that’s melted over his hands. The little boy is looking from you, to the place where Damien is standing, then frowns, turning back to you. He slowly blinks, not moving, staring at you with his mouth open.  
You curse under your breath and grab Damien’s arm, roughly pulling him forward, bowing your head to hide your reddened cheeks. Behind you, the kid runs to his mother, asking with a high-pitched voice if adults have invisible friends, too.

 

One street further, you dive into the tea house, stiffly taking your jacket off. It’s late autumn and the cold hasn’t really set in, but you’re grateful for the extra layer. Inside, it’s warm and cozy, and your favorite spot - in the back booth, close to a window - is free. The owner greets you cheerfully. You and her are on your way of becoming friends, given how you always compliment her creations.

While you settle against the window, Damien struggles with the lack of space, making you shake your head disapprovingly when he tries to put his legs on the bench. He makes a face and you look to the wall and bite your lip to try and stifle a chuckle. The effect of him rolling his eyes is so unexpected and genuinely funny that it’s hard for you to keep quiet. You being so nervous doesn’t help either. Your shoulders shock while your laughter squeaks behind your hand. On the other end of the table, Damien grins broadly to you, all too pleased with your reaction.  
When the waiter clears her throat, she almost makes you jump in your seat - you hadn’t heard nor seen her approach. When she offers you the menu, you decline it - you know most of it by head.

“Can I have the hazelnut-honey-coffee cake and a pot of Chai?”

The girl smiles and nods, taking down your order. Right before she turns to leave, you glance sideways and look at Damien.

“Wait,” you add, “can you stuff in an extra piece? ...Make it a peach-cardamom cake. ...With an extra fork please.”

You watch the waiter leave, trying very hard not to look immediately at Damien, who you can hear rustling in his seat. The table softly resonates when he puts his arms on it and rests his chin on his hands, smiling mysteriously and taking you in. The cold light outside make his horns gleam harder, his features rougher. Despite that, you can’t deny he’s... Well. Good-looking. For a demon. The staring is getting annoying though.

“What?”

You try your best to scowl. Damien smiles even broader, blinking softly at you.

“You care about me.”

Your mouth falls open and you start sputtering, indignantly dismissing his remark.

“I’m not! Everyone needs to eat. I can’t let you starve, can I?”

“Still. Why pick your second-favorite to give to me? You want to _share_?”

He almost whispers that last part, his tone and his not-so-subtle eyebrow wiggle making it very clear what kind of sharing he has in mind exactly. You huff and turn red again, but before you start thinking what could be the best insult you could sling to his head right now, you realize he was right.

“How did you know it was my second favorite?”

“People are easy enough to read. You just need to pay attention. You should have seen your eyes just now,” Damien grins kindly, “it was as if you were in some kind of personal heaven. Your eyes were sparkling. It was lovely to see.”

Damien has a way of talking that makes it hard for you to reply. It’s something about the overload of compliments, his obvious intelligence, combined with his flirting and his demonic looks.  
You groan and lean forward, hiding your face in your hands. Porcelain and cutlery tinkle softly, and when you look up, your order has been put on the table. You quickly grab your wallet and pay up front, pouring yourself a hot cup of tea as soon as the waitress leaves. The Chai is hot and bitter, and it clears up your head with its sharp aroma.  
Damien sniffles curiously, nodding when he seems to recognize the scent. He looks around him and buries his fork in his pastry as soon as he’s sure no one is watching. The fork looks incredibly tiny in his hand, yet he handles it effortlessly. The second he bites down on the cake, you can hear him moan softly. He nods, chewing on it, putting a finger on his mouth  before he speaks again, as if to savor every bit of taste.

“Yes. The taste of this confirms it. You care about me.”

You shake your head furiously, picking away at your own pastry.

“I don’t, you stupid demon.”

Damien just chuckles and eagerly buries his fork in his cake again, savoring the treat while he eyes you.

“Alright, stop that. Stop staring like that. Just stop. Okay. Maybe I do.”

“Do what?”

You redden, infuriated at how he’s pushing his luck, a tiny part of you being amused as well.

“Care. Just a little. Enough to not let you starve.”

Damien snorts triumphantly, putting both his arms in the air and wincing when he accidentally bumps against the ceiling of the booth, making a loud knock. He stares bewildered at the tea room, where some people are looking around confused to see where the sound just came from. It’s enough to throw you into a laughing fit and bend over the table, frantically struggling to keep it down. Damien starts laughing as well, the low rumbling vibrating in your chest. It’s not an unpleasant feeling.

“You idiot,” is all you can muster when you have calmed down. You don’t attempt looking into the room to see how much people are staring at the girl who just had the giggles all by herself.

“Laughter brings people together in my experience,” Damien practically retorts. His eyes twinkle when he bites into another piece of cake, blinking amicably at you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to move on to some more kinky parts :3  
> Next chapter, probably :3

The way back to your apartment is pleasant. Damien has abstained from making jokes and teasing you, and the two of you have an actual conversation instead of him trying to seduce you. Putting in your earbuds makes it seem as if you’re calling, and no one is paying attention to you when you seemingly talk by yourself. Damien appears to be an excellent storyteller, with a flair for the dramatic. You can’t help but hang onto his lips when he talks about the journeys he undertook together with his third-last companion, a woman by the name of Julia.

Julia was the only member of the cult he’d ever been reborn for, and she’d been in love with Damien even when he was still together with his previous companion. When he was reborn, mere weeks after he went to sleep, Julia was drawn to the object he had appeared in: a bright red cloak. When she completed the ritual - burn the incense, recite the words, use the object - she and Damien left, ready to explore the world.

They had travelled all over, seen and heard things history books don’t talk about. Damiens voice is lively and mesmerizing, painting imageries in the sky with his hands, describing landscapes you can actually see before you. Before you know it, you are back in the street where you live. Just when you want to search for your keys, you notice that the front door of your apartment complex is already open, and some people are walking in and out, carrying heavy-looking cardboard boxes and furniture. A big moving van is parked nearby.   
Huh. Seems like the apartment below you finally got rented out. Hopefully it’s someone nice, you think by yourself. You squeeze past someone in the hallway and make your way up the stairs, looking back at Damien, who handily makes it past the movers. One of them frowns, then shrugs, when Damien brushes past the former. No one seems to take notice of him. Good.

When you reach second level, you hear voices and to your surprise, you spot a familiar face. In the door frame, James is giving instructions to another guy. He’s wearing loose clothes and his hair is looking somewhat dishevelled. Totally different from his usual, clean uniform. It’s not a bad look on him, you conclude. Still, what is he doing here? Is _he_ the one moving in? Then James looks your way and lifts his hand in greeting, calling out to you.

“Y/N, hiyah. How are you?”

“Hi James, pretty okay. What’s happening? You moving in?”

“Well… yes. Rent is cheap in this neighbourhood and my previous contract was finished. Plus I know some of the neighbours are pretty nice,” he grins to you.  
You’d take it as a compliment, but something about his moving in has raised that nagging voice in the back of your head again. Why didn't he tell you before that he was about to move in? He could have easily told you. Not that he owed it to you to share about his life, but still…

Damien has gotten closer. You don’t need to see him - his body warmth alone is enough to tell you he’s right behind you. When you turn to look at him, he’s staring with interest at James.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

You subtly move your hand in a so-and-so motion. You see Damien nodding out of the corner of your eye.

“More of an acquaintance, eh? He’s not bad-looking.”

The remark surprises you and you grow red, which James confuses with a reaction on what he said.

“Whoa, no need to blush Y/N! Just stating a fact!” he laughs, seeming pleased with himself. Someone shouts something from the apartment and James motions at you to stay.

“I’ll be right back, gotta do something!”

You frown at his back when he disappears behind the door, shouting instructions about a closet. Then you turn to the stairs, frown deepening, and continue up, heading home. Damien follows and you shut the door behind him, slouching down on the beanbag and closing your eyes. It’s quiet and peaceful in your tiny flay. Damien makes no attempt to speak or joke, which you are grateful for. Soon after, you hear water boiling. When you open your eyes, the red demon smiles kindly at you and puts another pot of tea with on the table in front of you, together with a cup, a tray of cookies and a pot of honey. Then he withdraws to the couch, grabs a book and starts reading, leaving you alone. A wave of appreciation washes through you.  
The both of you stay in silence for a while, Damien intrigued by the book, you silently nipping at your drink and resting. Your voice sounds lazy when you finally talk to Damien again.

“I’m not fond of surprises.”

He stays calm and doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading. It’s one of your favorites and you smile, remembering what happens at the beginning.

“I figured.”

You continue taking him in, the pale sunlight on the back of his head - is that hair growing? - and his unusual build. He’s fascinating. Secretly you find yourself liking to stare at him. Most artists would find him fascinating, you bet.

“... This is nice though.”

Damien stirs in his seat. The sides of his mouth curl, but he keeps himself composed. It’s been just one day, and somehow, at this exact moment, you don’t mind his presence. The big shock from last night already seems so long ago. And you’re to say goodbye to him in two weeks. Don’t you?

“Damien…”

“Yes?”

His golden eyes rest on you, and he puts the book aside. He seems like a fast reader - in a couple of minutes he’s read an impressive amount of pages.

“What would you like to do in the coming two weeks? Until… You know.”

“Hmmm.”

He no longer seems to get nervous when you mention the time span.

“Travelling the world might be a bit difficult and expensive, but within reason, there’s some things we can do.”

Damien smiles deeper and leans into you.

“I’d love to do the things that you love to do.”

You groan and rub your forehead.

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

You _definitely_ feel another headache coming up by now.

“My favorite things are boring. I love books. Movies. Drawing. Going to museums.”

“It’s all new to me and from what I’ve seen so far, you have excellent taste. It would be my honor if you showed me your world.”

Damien pauses and puts his finger on his lip, which makes him look far too sensual for his own good.

“That reminds me. Money shouldn’t be a problem.”

He grins when you blink confusedly, winking at you when you cock your head in question.

“The order has been taking care of my funds, presumably. I’m positive there’s some of it left. I assume gold is still valuable?”

You can only nod in surprise.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone once did to me what James did. And no, I wasn't fond of it either. 
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone reading this. It makes me happy up to the point of being giddy that so many of you like this story.

Saturday passes by without further incidents, save for a knock on the door later in the evening. When you gesture at Damien to make himself invisible, he obeys while smiling slyly. Even the folds in the couch where he's sitting disappear. Relieved, you turn to open the door.

The visitor appears to be James, who looks a bit flustered. You frown at him and greet your visitor, but don't invite him in.

"Hi Y/N. I uhh... Well I... An... A friend of mine pointed out that I might have been sort of, well, dense. I wanted to apologize that I didn't tell you about my moving in. So um. Yeah. I'm sorry about that."

It's a rather blunt apology, but it's exactly what's been nagging you. You look at the floor, then back to him.

"I actually didn't appreciate that. I told someone earlier today I'm not fond of surprises."

"Ahh. That's good to know. I'm really sorry though, I didn't mean to upset you. I really am a bit dense I guess."

That's one way of putting it, you think, but you keep further remarks to yourself. You simply nod at James.

"Anything else? I'm kind of having a moment by myself now."

It comes out harsher than you mean it, but you don't care. Surely James kind of deserves it at this moment.

“Oh. Could you use some company?”

Your jaw drops. He can’t be serious. While you stare in disbelief at him, you realize in horror that Damien has approached and stares at you from the wall. You can vaguely make out his shape, barely visible. He’s smiling calmly and cocks his head at you, as if to ask if you need help. Your eyebrows raise and you lift up your shoulders, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that, probably,” James apologized. You turn to answer him when-

“Honey, could you help me? I need some help in the bathroom!”

Damien’s deep voice booms from behind you, making James jump and causing your heart to skip a beat in terror.

“Oh you… You have someone over?” James’ expression is a mix of awkwardness and curiosity.

“Kind of. I’ll see you later!” you stammer and close the door to his aghast face. Leaning your back onto it, you turn sharply to the bathroom. Damien is standing up tall, his arms leaning into the doorframe. All of his bulky, bare frame is stretched out and he smiles suggestively at you.

“You’re welcome “Honey”,” he grins.

You scoff and shake your head, trying not to stare too hard at him.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Yes but… Now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“I admit I was jealous of that charming boy. But at the moment he’s leaving you alone, and that’s what you wanted, right?”

“You’re kind of driving me crazy, demon.”

“That’s music to my ears.”

You lift your hands in despair and walk off to your tiny bedroom, closing the door behind you. What you hoped would be a quiet weekend, has turned into a wrecked, senseless mess. Usually you’d welcome a friend living closer to you, but the way James had handled it annoyed you more with the minute.  
And Damien, who’s definitely aware of the effect he has on you, just keeps trying to get you to like him. Worst of all, it seems to be working. You grunt and dig your face into the sheets. One of your hands glides lower to confirm what you already knew. You squirm under your own touch, and your fingers softly glisten when you pull them back. A frustrated whine escapes you and you roll onto your back. There’s no way you can relieve yourself with Damien around you - he hasn’t told you yet how well he hears but… Something tells you his senses are better than those of an average human.  
The two weeks ahead seem like an eternity at this point.  
You close your eyes and rest your head on the bed. Maybe a short respite will do you good.

***************

When you open your eyes again, the room is dark. Night already. You shoot up and curse, falling back when you feel dizzy from getting up too fast. Something stumbles outside the room and you hear a soft knock on your door. A tall, dark figure enters the room, horns adorning the head.

“Y/N, are you awake?”

You groan back, mumbling something incoherent. Damien approaches and kneels next to you, putting your night light on. He pauses when the soft light falls on the metal box that came with the package - you left it there, not knowing what to do about it. Then his attention returns to you.

“Can I touch you for a short moment?”

You shrug and lean forward, too sluggish to care much. Damien smiles at you and carefully puts both his hands on your head, chanting the same tune as before. His hands are warm and comforting, and you find yourself leaning against them. Seconds later, your head clears up and the dizziness is gone, as the healing magic does its work.

“There, that should be better.”

Damien softly strokes your cheek with his thumb before he takes his hands back.

“It is. Thanks.”

It’s then you notice he’s wearing a makeshift shirt. It seems like Damien draped a blanket over himself, somewhat resembling a tunic, the way he folded it.

“Damien?”

You point at his chest.

“Are you cold?”

He looks down, then back at you.

“No, I rarely get cold. I thought it better to cover myself up more as it seemed to be upsetting you.”

You try to stammer an answer, and Damien just chuckles.  
“It’s fine Y/N, don’t work yourself up. I should be the one to apologize. Most humans get upset seeing others naked. Or, well, close to it.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop flirting as well?”

“Only if you want me to.”

And there, you pause, just too long, and Damiens eyes flicker, amused at your hesitation.

“You’re irresistible when you’re flustered, my dear.”

“Goddamnit.”

“And you have a way with words, too.”

“Go to hell, stupid demon.”

Damien bursts out in laughter and offers you his hand.

“I made you dinner, my dear.”

Your stomach growls in response. According to your alarm, it’s past 9PM. Might as well try to eat something at this point. You accept Damien’s hand without further thinking, at which he gently pulls you to your feet. When you look up at him, you cry out in surprise. Where his head was bald before, tiny locks of hair are growing. It’s only yesterday that he appeared, but it’s already several centimeters long.

“You have hair?!”

You blurt it out before you realize, but Damien seems happy you noticed and reaches for his scalp, ruffling his short locks.

“Yes. It’s growing quicker at the moment until it has the length I want. Or the length that you want.”

“I’m not… I don’t have a say in that. Grow it whatever length you want.”

You look in wonder at him. His hair looks thick and gleams healthily, although something seems off. When you flick on the lights, you see exactly what is off. Most of his hair is black, but some locks have a different color. A few streaks of burgundy mix with small patches of what seems blonde - no, _golden_ hair. Damien follows your incredulous gaze and chuckles nervously.

“Yeah, I have some peculiar pigmentation there. You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s… It suits you.”

You barely managed to hold the word “beautiful” in. Who knows how much more of an insufferably flirt he would become once he knew that you liked how he looked? Damien smiles, his eyes inscrutable.

“Dinner?”

You nod back at him.

“Dinner.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter and hey, finally some action :D I also got a surprise for you...  
> The wonderful Altagrin on Tumblr was open for commissions and they were as kind to draw Damien! :D :D  
> You can find their account here:  
> http://altagrin.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Please support them! 
> 
> I am deeply in love with the artwork and I hope Damien somewhat matches what most thought he would look like. Feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments!

The food Damien makes appears to be consistently amazing. The two of you eat and chat pleasantly, and you finally relax again. For a moment, you wonder if James below you can hear the two of you, and you finally decide that you don’t care. After dinner, Damien insists on cleaning up for the two of you, only letting you dry the dishes after you throw a small fit. When everything is stowed away, the question remains what you’ll do with the rest of the evening. Saturdays are late nights for you, after all.

“Have you ever seen a movie?”

Damien nods slowly, and tells you about a few black and white shorts he saw back in the day. You grin, getting excited.

“What kind of stories do you like the most? Romantic, something with a lot of songs, something tensive?”

“I like all kinds of stories. But I guess I’d love to see something adventurous.”

“Say no more!”

You walk to the tv and open the drawer below it. The backs of your dvd collection are gleaming welcoming to you and you skim the titles, looking for something good. Finally, you grab the case of Mad Max: Fury Road and put it in your gaming console, then move to the kitchen to make popcorn. Damien watches you with a bemused interest and settles down onto the couch, staring at the screen in fascination when the movie menu repeats itself.

“I think this is the most exciting time I’ve been in so far.”

You smile when you hear that and laugh back at him.

“There’s some pretty good things about living in this age, that’s true. Give me some space, I’m joining you.”

Damien obeys and pats on the couch next to him, inviting you. You swallow hard and try not to think too much about the fact that you’re going to sit next to him for two hours. His tail swishes when you come closer and you can’t help but smile again. He’s very obvious in his affection for you and it’s sort of disarming. It’s different from James, who is just… You shake your head, not wanting to get yourself worked up again. Screw that guy.

The movie starts and soon enough, both of you are engrossed. Sometimes, Damien asks a question, but mostly, he remains seated. His eyes widen at the action scenes and he makes excited sounds from time to time, his pupils dilated. There was more romance in the movie that you remembered, but Damien doesn’t react differently to those parts. When he’s completely immersed by the final chase, you drowsily take him in. His sensuous lips, the strong profile of his head, the way his tail twitches when he’s excited. How would it feel to touch him? You drowsily blink and sink back in the couch, trying to pay attention to the last few parts of the movie.

When you open your eyes again, the tv is out, and you lie on something hot, rising and falling below your fingers. A warm hand tenderly strokes your head.

“Damien?”

“I’m here.”

“Hm-hmm.”

You’re more tired than you thought, and you sluggishly try to lift your head, failing clumsily. And Damien feels warm and soft below you - your fingers lie half on his blanket, half on his bare stomach. A few more seconds.... Just a few more.  
Damien’s hand strokes past you head again, brushing past a part of your exposed neck. You shiver and moan softly - your neck is incredibly sensitive. Suddenly, the demon tenses up below you and growls softly. You hear the sounds of nails on fabric. What’s going on?

Then Damien gets up, careful not to let you fall, and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. Even through your sluggishness, you feel a tinge of panic, and you start to writhe in his arms. The creature wanders to your bedroom and abruptly lays you down onto your bed, looming over you with a pained face. Then he gets up, balling his fists.

“Go get some sleep. Thank you for the movie. It was wonderful.”

“Did I upset you?”

It comes out drowsily, barely audible. Damien sighs and crouches down again.

“The opposite. I’m proud of how much control I have, but you are a challenge to me. You’re very trusting, especially towards someone like me.”

He pauses and reaches for you. When you don’t wince, Damien takes it as permission to touch you again. His hand with its odd ivory palm glides past your cheek, stroking over your forehead. When he finally reaches your lips, you stir below his touch. It’s too intimate, too close, and yet you can’t move away from his fingers, those eyes.

“I’ll leave you be. If I can’t control myself now, we’ll both be sorry for it.”

And with that, he withdraws, closing the door quietly behind him. It burns where he touched you and you gather your fingers before your mouth, hesitantly touching your lips. He kept his promise. Then why do you feel even the tiniest bit of regret?

 

You wake up with a smile, the remnants of a very pleasant dream lingering. You remember a garden with odd, but gentle creatures, and fruit hanging heavy and ripe from fragrant trees. Was Damien responsible for that?  
It’s early Sunday morning and you slept like a babe, feeling thoroughly well-rested. There’s no knock on your door, though. You get up and walk into the living room, noticing the table is set, but Damien is absent. Something smells very sweet yet savory. And the window is open. He did not… Did he?!

You hasten to it and look outside, scanning the neighbourhood for him. The first minute you don’t see much; a few joggers, a man walking by with a fat little dog, a few cars passing through. Then you spot Damien, at the end of your street. He approaches the apartment at an alarming fast rate, running fast on his strong legs. And he’s holding something?

Before you know it, he’s below the apartment and crouches down, jumping upward. Your jaw drops. The jump takes him the upper branches of the tree below your window, several meters high. How strong is he? Then you realize you’re in the way and step back, leaving space for the demon to enter. Moments later, he jumps inside, gracefully landing on all fours, like an animal. He startles when he sees you and almost loses his balance.

“Oh, you’re awake yet. I thought you’d…”

He corrects himself and gets up. The “tunic” is gone again, leaving his upper body free. And in his hand, he clenches a fistful of flowers, fresh off the field from the looks of them. For the very first time since he stumbled into your life and threw it all upside down, Damien seems flustered.

“I will ehh… I’ll look for something to put them in.”

“You brought me flowers.”

“Well, yes. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

You giggle and push your hip against Damiens leg.

“Someone is trying to be nice to me.”

Damien chuckles back, still off guard. He stumbles clumsily through your cabinets, looking for a vase, until you point him out where he can find one. Finally, he opens the oven. The sweet smell from earlier grows stronger. Damien reveals his hands, in which he holds a beautiful French bread, speckled with herbs. You make an approving sound and sit down with him, sharing the bread - which tastes even better than it smells - over a jug of jam. Damien seems to have regained his confidence at the end of the meal and while he cleans the table, you shoot an admiring glance at the bouquet. Buttercup, white daisies, wild grass, various flowers that you don’t know the name of. It’s pretty to look at and unexpectedly romantic of someone like the red demon.

And for the umpteeth time, you consider him. His hair has grown longer again. It’s the length of a hand now, falling before his eyes when he bends forward. The dark locks are sleek and thick, and you itch to touch them, let the silky hair glide between your fingers. His skin, that felt so scaly when you awoke on his stomach, seems to have gotten softer - has he shed those scales you saw earlier? Only the small horns on his back are left, a stark contrast of black against his deep burgundy skin.

Then Damien finally notices you eyeing him and stops cleaning, standing tall and looking back down at you.

“What does it feel like? The attraction that you have to me?”

Something about the food and your wonderful night of sleep made you dangerously at ease, and you lean against the counter, still in your sleeping shirt. Damien’s gaze is calm and unreadable when he grabs a chair and sits himself down, leaning back against it. It creaks under his weight.

“Like a magnet, I suppose. I have a constant want to be near you, a constant ache to make sure you are well. And you know that I long for you in another way.”

The comment makes you blush and you change your position, putting your weight onto your other leg.

“All because of that spell with which Danae resurrected you?”

He told you her name two nights ago, and his eyes flicker when he hears you use it. The very first woman that loved him and stayed with him. A witch. And a gifted, but lonely girl, underneath it all.

“Yes. I can’t help but love the one I’m awoken with, even if it goes against me.”

He winces when he says it, thinking back of someone he hasn’t talked to you about yet.

“In this case, it’s easy. Feeling affection for you is like breathing.”

There’s nothing but sincerity in his declaration. It makes your heart beat faster, up the point it’s painful. His eyes rest on your face and glide lower, taking your full figure in. It’s as if his eyes are burning in your skin, and you put your arms in front of you, shuffling uneasily. This time, Damien doesn’t back down and leans forward.

“And you. What do you feel? For being with me, here, alone in this room?”

You turn red and stammer. That’s a question you don’t want to answer, because you’re afraid of what you will say. You stand up and start walking to your bedroom.

“Don’t be silly Damien, you know we have an agreement. You’re being too much.”

It comes out harsh, but you _need_ to put some distance between the two of you, right now. Damien’s arm blocks the way when you want to walk past him, warm against your stomach. He grabs your hip and turns you his way, reaching for your chin with his other hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N. Be honest with yourself. It’s clear you like me.”

You struggle against Damien’s grasp, trying to escape his hold, but it’s as if you’re wrestling against a brick wall. He’s unfathomably strong, which awakes a turmoil of conflicting feelings inside you.

“You promised you wouldn’t touch me without permission! Damien, stop!”

He ignores you, pulling you closer over his leg and grabbing your face with both his hands, until only a few fingers separate you from each other.

“Kiss me.”

Lust colors his baritone, which is finally getting to you. How long has it been since someone touched you?

“I can’t,” you whisper, “I’m scared.”

Damien leans forward and nuzzles your cheek. His hot breath and warmth make you dizzy, and you forget that you want to pull away.

“You know you want me. Holding back will only cause you pain, Y/N.”

Emotions clench your throat tight and your breathing becomes shallower. What will happen - will he hurt you? Or will he be sweet and careful, like he’s been up to now? All train of thought gets lost the moment Damien starts touching you. His left hand travels to your bare leg, the other crawls to your neck and softly fondles you. You lean onto him for support, becoming dizzy with craving. And when you look into his amber eyes again, you lose the fight. You lean in and press your lips onto his, giving in to this strange, beautiful creature, hoping he will have mercy on you.

Damien answers your kiss passionately, softly pressing you against him and molding his lips to yours, playing such a sensual game that you soon fear you might lose your mind. You pull back, gasping for breath, staring at Damien with teary eyes. He, too, is shaken. His chest is raising and falling rapidly, and his pupils are widened. Somewhere below the chair, his tail is swishing rapidly.

“That wasn’t fair, you stupid demon.”

Damien makes a regretful face, bowing his head.

“I’m sorry. But… Oh Y/N, I could _feel_ how much you were struggling. It’s been barely two days but… There’s a reason we were brought together. I’m meant for you. And you are meant for me. Do you see that, even this early?”

You can’t answer that and try to swallow the heavy lump in your throat. Damien sighes, offering you a sensual smile.

“I’m sorry for forcing myself through. And I’ll give you the time and space you need. Just…”

He leans forward, both his hands crawling through your hair, meeting your mouth again with his. His lips are hot, pressing yours open all of a sudden, teasing you with a mere flick of his long tongue. He tastes intoxicating and you moan, pressing your body into his. His arms wrap around you and push you against his broad chest, his hands sliding down to your ass, cupping your cheeks and pulling you up onto his body. The sound you make next makes Damien shiver below you, and the chair dangerously creaks below the two of you.  
Damien gets up, keeping a firm hold of you while straightening himself, stroking your hair while you feverishly lay your head on his naked shoulder. He eyes you, then scans the apartment.

“Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait everyone :| Daily life crept up to me and I have terrible back ache at this moment which at one side, puts me home, but on the other hand, makes it impossible for me to sit down long enough to write a lot. 
> 
> That being said. Yay! New chapter xD And once more, I'm baffled.  
> So many people asking for more, so much readers o.O I swear, I'd never expected so much love for this story! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!  
> I hope this chapter is satisfactory :3

You lie in Damien’s arms, dazed and charred in places where his lips touched you. The doorpost of your bedroom swishes past, and next you know, your sheets are kissing your back. Damien looms over you, tenderly searching for your mouth, pressing all of his huge body on yours. You squirm when you feel his knee pushing your legs apart, mewling below the demon. Then he finds your mouth and pushes his lips onto yours, his tongue demanding entrance. A sultry moan rises and you don’t even know if it’s yours or his anymore.   
Your hands claw over his massive arms, looking for support. Damien growls in response, the lowl rumble vibrating in your chest. You almost come at that exact moment, trembling like crazy with excitement. Your hips are gyrating against Damien, desperately looking for friction. He grabs both your thighs and pulls them further open, descending upon you while leaving scorching caresses over your body, lifting your shirt up to get closer to your naked skin. When he pulls you up, you follow him obediently and shiver when he pulls the garment over your head, leaving you only in your panties below the excited demon.   
He pushes you down again, hungrily sucking on your nipples and the sensitive skin of your breasts until you cry out. Then he sits up, taking you in with a feverish expression. All you can do is lie down trembling, a shivering pile of want and longing.

Damien mumbles something you barely understand, looking down at you with heated eyes.

“ _Mor brydferth_ … You’re a delight for my eyes, my girl…”

He spreads his hand over your stomach, caressing your exposed skin. It is so big, it’s covering up your entire belly, his claws reaching down the sides. He hasn’t hurt you with them at all, you realize. And the way he touches you… You watch as Damien steps up from the bed, pulling you closer to the edge and kneeling down in front of you, as if to revere you. Both his thumbs and nails press into your inner thighs at a specific spot, making you see stars. At this point, you’re so wet you can feel it on the insides of your legs and you hide your face, embarrassed when you feel Damien kissing and sucking closer to your most sensitive spot. Then his fingers glide behind your panties and your fists dig into the sheets, clawing helplessly. His tongue follows his fingers, a languid stroke over your swollen sex making you moan out loud, writhing in the sheets.   
Skilled hands grab your hips, removing the last of your clothing and spreading you open, after which Damiens hungry mouth encloses your swollen lips and pushes his tongue inside you. At this point, you can’t hold yourself anymore and you scream into your pillow. The tip of his tongue curls inside you and reaches a certain spot while he sucks on your clit at the same time and oh… Your orgasm brutally crashes into you, and you shake frantically, clawing at the sheets and screaming incoherent words.   
When you finally beg Damien to stop, he pulls his long tongue out of you, provokingly slow. He teasingly licks your drenched folds and sucks at the inside of your legs, despite your weak protests.

“Damien, please…”

He rumbles lowly between your legs, a dark look in his eyes when he lifts his gaze up to you.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Yes… Please... It’s too much.”

“Hmmm. ...I don’t think so.”

Your stomach sinks at the words.

“What? No… NO you’re not…”

Damien ignores you, bringing his fingers to his mouth, biting on his nails and pulling the sharp end from two of them off. You gasp at the sight and Damien grins at you, pushing back some of his longer locks.

“I’m far from done with you.”

And before you can further protest, he spreads your legs wider and pushes his thick, long fingers inside you. They slide inside with ease, drenched as you are, and Damien curls them upward, going straight for that one spot. When you cry out again, he leans over you, caressing your face with his other hand, all while holding you in a vice grip below, his thumb jerking fast over your clit. Before you can push him away, your second orgasm swells, even more intense than you first.

“ _Fuck…”_

Your head falls back into the bed; all you can do is writhe and moan below Damien, who’s taking you in with a dark grin. A few of his nails softly scratch over your chest, past your hard nipples. You yelp at the sensation and tighten even more around his fingers.

“Oh, I  _love_ that reaction. Your neck is not the only place that’s sensitive, is it now?”

He looms over you again, lifting up your head and clutching the locks in your neck.

“...Goddamnit…”

The orgasm is slowly ebbing away and with it, you ability to think - and cuss - resurfaces. The hand clutching your hair makes your resistance weak though, and admittedly, Damien scares you a bit now. Immediately, the grip on your hair gets looser.

Huh, how did he…?

“After this, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Damien bites his lip when you give him a heated stare, not sure if you should slap him or give him a hug. You abstain from either instead, staring up at Damien with a suspicious, breathy scowl.

“Why don’t you tell me right now?”

Damien grins, his sharp teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin.

“Because right now-,” he starts, while twisting his fingers, making your breath hitch in your throat, “you’re so sensitive and willing with my fingers inside you. It would be a waste not to make you enjoy this as much as I can.”

“You don’t mea-  _ohh...!”_

The fingers inside you started moving again, stroking fast past your G-spot, deeper inside, out again, his thick fingers stretching you open when he fills you up again. As soon as you redden again, Damien halts his movements and grins at your plaintive noises. With a supple movement, he descends on you again, slow strokes of his tongue accompanied by his fingers teasing your entrance, building up your heat again. Right when you feel yourself clenching up again, Damien pulls out his fingers and presses you down into the mattress when you buck up, holding you in place with one bulky arm.

“Patience, Y/N. Almost…”

It takes you longer to calm down this time, and when you do, Damien tenderly starts caressing your body. A kiss on the inside of your thigh, a stroke of his tongue over the curve of your hips, further upward, until he’s hovering over your lips and you can feel him pressing into you, all hot and bothered. A kiss follows, teasing, soft, and tantalizing, making your head spin when your lips touch his sharp teeth, when you taste his intoxicating smell.   
Meanwhile, his fingers trace sensual paths over your body, raising your sensitivity until you whimper and shake, tears clouding up your eyes. Then, and only then, when you almost can’t bear it anymore, his fingers open you up again, digging to find your weakest spot and caressing it with adept touch. You dig your fingers into Damien’s dark hair and horns, crying out in delight when a third, overwhelming orgasm comes up, the waves of pleasure dashing through your whole body, travelling up your spine and you arch, crying out so hard your throat hurts from it.   
Damien dotes over you while you tremble and sob next to him, involuntary twitches and the aftershocks of pleasure leaving you numb.

After a while, Damien puts his arm around you and pulls you into him, your back to his chest. He feels hot behind you, but his arm feels comforting and the room is still cool, so you allow it. For some time, the only sound in the room is the two of you breathing.

It slowly dawns on you that you just had sex - well, not full-on, but still - with a demon who’s been in your life for just a few days. Just like that. And had an amazing sequence of orgasms. The duality of it is staggering.   
Damien seems to sense that you’re starting to get anxious and scoots back so you can lie on your back next to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?”

His deep voice sounds content and sensual, and you smile despite yourself.

“Like I could die a happy person, if I’m honest. I swear, that was some next-level….”

You sigh without finishing your sentence, trusting the unspoken words will come through.

“184 years of experience do that,” the demon laughs, too proud of himself to hold his boasting in.

It seems like such an impossible long time, and you blink in confusion, trying to imagine what it must be like to live several lives and be aware of them all.

“I’m glad it pleased you though. That’s what I’m here for.”

Damien presses a light kiss on your head, pushing a sweaty strand of hair back.

“Go ahead, I can feel you have questions.”

You turn your head to him, looking for his eyes. Once again he seems vulnerable under your inquiring gaze.

“Just the one actually. Well. For the moment.”

“Ahh. Right.”

“...Were you hoping I’d just forget?”

“My lady is sharp. Maybe I did. I was a bit fearful of what your reaction might be.”

“So then, what’s more that you need to tell me?”

Damien averts his eyes briefly before he answers you.

“If I’m to stay with you, we will form a bond. It’s already started to manifest, and I suspect you might even have noticed the effects of it by now.”

“A ...Bond?”

“Yes. If we are to stay together, I will always know where you are, as will you be aware of where I am. What’s more… We’ll be able to call each other without using our voices. A mental bond, if you will. A telephatic link of our souls.”

The only reaction you can give Damien at that confession is a terrified stare.


	16. Chapter 16

“You must be kidding.” 

Damien stays quiet, observing your reaction. 

“I’ll have you in my head, and you’ll be in my head all the time? I’m to be linked to you, have you intruding in my head, just like that, all the time?!” 

Your anger is growing the more you speak and think. How could you be so stupid? A horny fit, and you spread your legs for this…  _ Monster  _ that you barely even know? That’s apparently set on clawing itself into your life, no matter what you might think about it? 

“[Y/N], I can understand that you’re angry. I made you a promise and-”

“And you straight up fucking broke it. Multiple times.” 

You get up from the bed, hysterical, trying to find clothes. As if you cover up, you will forget about the feeling of his fingers inside you, those burning eyes that looked with adoration at you. Damien tries to grab you, but you roll away from him and get up from the bed. The room is filled with a strange scent - both yours and the demon’s sweat. 

“[Y/N], it’s not like we’d be in each other’s heads all the time - you can choose to-” 

“Why are you pretending that I have a choice in all of this?! You’ve been lying and deceiving me all this time, THE ONE THING I ASKED YOU NOT TO!” 

The screaming hurts, but Damien’s startled expression is worth it. He backs off, as if you struck him in the face. 

“Get out. Out of my sight.  _ Now _ .” 

You’re both scared and angry, and as most often, the anger gets the upper hand. Damien immediately gets up and leaves the room. You hear the click of the window, and then a soft thud outside, along with the rustling of leaves. He jumped into the tree, then.    
Good. As long as he has left, it’s fine. 

When you leave the bedroom, you’re still shaky and you brush your hair behind your ears. The window is still open, and the room seems oddly empty without Damien around. No red shape is waiting for you and smiling at you from the couch, and for a second, you regret sending him away. Then you shake your head at the absurd thought and sigh, heading for the bathroom. 

Under the water, you rinse off the sweat and scent, making the last traces of your little adventure disappear. You try not to dwell on what just happened, but there are marks all over you, small scratches where his teeth and horns scraped past your skin, especially in between your legs. The water makes it sting, and the heath inside your belly only slowly withers away. You clench your eyes tight shut, trying to ban out the thoughts. 

The rest of the Sunday passes by without any event. When you hear a sound late in the evening, you startle, but it appears to only be a bird cawing at your window. 

When you go to sleep, you double check if everything is closed off, plagued by a faint feeling of worry for Damien. With a dismissive shrug, you turn to the other side. He’s several times your own age - he’ll be able to survive.    
When you finally fall asleep, it’s a restless sleep filled with shadows.

 

Then your working week starts, and it’s harder than ever to get up, pack your bag and tablet and head out the door. As usual, you skip breakfast, as even the smell and sight of food make you nauseous in the morning. Somehow, your bus is exactly on time, as opposed to other days, and your favorite spot - far in the back, alone - is empty. 

Your good luck streak seems to continue at work, where as soon as you sit down, the chief art director stops by your desk. 

“Good morning [Y/N], how are you?” 

The tall man smiles at you, kneeling next to your desk which is cluttered as always. You  hastily try to cover some of it up by placing your bag on the mess. 

“I’m… Doing well Henry, thanks for asking.” 

“Glad to hear that. Say, what would you think about drawing next week’s comic? Abby has fallen sick and can’t come in for some time, and you’re the only other illustrator we have at the moment.” 

Your jaw drops at the question. It’s something you’ve dreamed about for some time, but never had gotten the chance to - up to now. Henry chuckles. 

“Seems like you’re eager too, aren’t you?” 

“Well… Yes! Thank you for this chance! What does it have to be about?” 

“Mh, well, I’ve looked at your portfolio, and it seems like you have a penchant for fantasy art. Perhaps you can make a standalone short series in a fantasy setting? Abby will be gone for a couple of months, sadly.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll contact her later today. Also… against what time do you want the first draft?” 

“Let’s say against tomorrow afternoon. Can you do that?” 

“I’ll try to!” 

“Good. I’ll see you then. And don’t worry about your desk,” Henry smiles, “I’ve seen worse. At least yours is clean.” 

You scratch your head when he leaves, baffled at this sudden chance. It’s sad for Abby of course, and you hasten to start up your desktop to write her a mail.    
Your inbox is filled with a ton of mails, and to your surprise, a letter from a reader of the website. Somehow, they had taken the time to tell you about how they liked your illustrations for the past editions of the webzine you were working for. After thinking what to say for a while, you write an answer mail and give them the social media accounts they asked for.    
then you lean back, thinking about the rapid succession of lucky events this morning. And you hear Damien say it again. 

_ ”Think of me as channeling good luck.”  _

You sigh and bury your head in your hands. Damien. A  _ demon  _ who showed up while you were masturbating, announcing he’d be here as your partner and companion, providing for and protecting you. Not even two days later, he managed to get into your pants. And now you chased him away after you got fed up with how fast things were going, but the effect of his presence was still ongoing - his so called "good luck".  
Another one of the things that he predicted and came true. Did he stay close to you then? Or is it an effect of him just existing? And when you started doubting reality for a moment, you get reminded that nothing of this all is a dream. The itching scars between your legs and on your arms are proof of that.    
You start getting to work and sketch up a few designs for the comic, but no ideas stick, and the frustration builds up because you keep getting side-tracked. Finally, at the end of the working day, you make a decision. However foolish it is, something needs to change. 

On the way home, you think about what to do and where to start. Soon enough, an idea hits your, and instead of stopping at your door, you take the stairs all the way to the roof. While you climb, you become aware of a slight melancholic feeling washing over you, but it’s not your own. You swallow nervously, because it means you are probably right. After some searching, you find the key and open the door to the roof. On the edge of the roof he sits, like a statue. His hair has grown longer again and lies in thick black cables over his shoulders, while his strange skin is gleaming gold in the setting sun. The melancholic feeling become worse when he turns his head to you, and you can for the first time truly  _ feel _ him inside you. The pain and loneliness hit you like a ton of bricks, and you stagger a moment before speaking, fighting tears back from emotions that aren’t yours. 

“Hi Damien. ...We need to talk.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update! Way overdue, isn't it? Sorry for that.  
> A couple of comments spurred me into action, making me realize I've been making you wait for too long.  
> I've got a bit more energy for writing now and hope the next chapter will be finished faster.

Hope flares up inside your head, and you almost forget what you want to say. There’s deeper, more complicated feelings woven between the thoughts Damien is sharing with you, but the hope shines through, like a gleaming white thread in a darker web.

“Oh…”

You step closer and sit down on the edge, not too far from him.

“This is going to be harder than I thought it would be. It’s confusing to have you inside my head.”

The contact gets cut off almost immediately. It feels comforting to be alone in your head again, to know for sure that what you’re feeling is your own. You finally dare looking at Damien again. He’s trying to keep himself looking composed, but after what you felt just now, you realize he’s a skilled actor.

“Thanks. That helps. ...So I guess you can really switch this off.”

Your curiosity gets the best of you after contemplating the situation a few more moments.

“...How… How do you… Activate this thing?”

Damien smiles carefully.

“It depends. Everyone I knew had a different way of doing it. It helps to visualize a physical connection between us - something to lead you by. Or a memory.”

“What do you imagine?”

Damiens smile deepens.

“I’m using a different favorite memory of you every time. Currently it’s the smile you made when you saw the bread I baked yesterday morning.”

You feel something brushing at the edge of your consciousness, a touch as faint as a feather. It’s gone a second later, but not before you felt the demon’s longing, deep and old.

“Yeah, don’t do that right now,” you frown at Damien. He stays motionless, apart from a little nod to let you know he heard you.

“You stupid demon,” you start. “You don’t know half how terrified you make me.”

Damien can’t resist raising an eyebrow, as if to challenge you. _Try me_.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been through this a couple of times. But you don’t know this age very well, do you?”

You let the words sink in for a few seconds, and you notice Damien getting insecure. His ears twitch nervously, and his tail starts swishing.

“That’s what I thought. You remember the smartphones I told you about? People use them all the time. They can record video and audio. Everyone who sees something weird films it and puts in the internet for the world to see these days. If someone were to see you and film you, there’d be people all over the place looking for you.”

Damien nods very slowly, taking in the consequences of it all. His favorite topic of conversation had been the internet, and even though he seemed to have difficulties grasping how widespread computers were, he seemed to get the gist of it.

“Firearms got way, way more dangerous. You’ve been through the first world war but… You weren’t there for the second. And it’s been some time since that one, too. The world can be a terrifyingly dangerous place for someone like you. I might be in that danger too, if I choose to stay with you.”

Another slow nod, and understanding dawns on Damien’s face.

“And then there’s the whole other side of the issue you’re probably very, very familiar with by now.”

“Not being with a human, but with someone big and horny like me?”

The laughter escapes you before you can hold it back.

“Oh you stupid demon, you did not just say that.”

Damien carefully laughs back at you.

“I couldn’t resist that one.”

“It’s funny because it’s true,” you giggle at him.

“Is that a saying these days?”

“Oh.. Well, yes and no? ...There’s a lot I should get you to know.”

Damien’s golden eyes widen at that last sentence.

“Yes, you stupid demon. You can stay for the moment. I’m still making up my mind about for how long though, so don’t get too excited.”

His deep laughter fills the air while he bends himself back and takes in the sky. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in and looks back at you.

“Y/N, it means a lot to me that you say that. I’m sorry for what I did yesterday. It’s been too long since I’ve been with someone who showed any kind of… Willingness,” he carefully tries.

“I told you I’m proud of my restraint. But you’re one of the most sensual beings I’ve ever been with. Don’t laugh like that - I’m serious.”

You try to keep a straight face, but it’s hard. You’re not exactly ugly, but not a model either? Far from it.

“Hey.”

“What is it?”

“I know it’s very soon but… Can you open up your mind for me for a second? Please?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because some things are better shown than explained.”

“You can project images in my mind?”

“...You could say that. It’s a hard to explain gift. It came from Danae.”

“Wait, you mean, you couldn’t read minds before you were resurrected by her?”

“No. I got the gift after she died. ...After I say goodbye to my companion, their soul merges with mine I think, and this grants me a gift. I’ve never really found out what it is, but it’s the best explanation I can think of.”

“That’s insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Just when you lift your hands in frustration to apologize, his consciousness brushes against ours again. This time, the touch feels as if he’s asking entrance. And again, your curiosity wins from your fear. A memory of him, or a connection, he said? The moment he turned himself invisible before you comes to mind. Back then, you had stretched out your hand to find him and met him halfway and…   
Then you find it. It feels like a second half of you, a duplicate form waiting to stretch her hands out to what’s in front of her. An invisible hand that you know is there.

“I’m such an idiot,” you mutter, and you push the hands in your mind forward to accept Damien’s invitation. The moment you touch, a flood of impressions and emotions washes over you. You blink rapidly and try to stay calm, trying to make sense of the torrent of images that flash up before you. The realization dawns that Damien is showing you his memories and impressions of you. It’s weird to see yourself through the eyes of another person, and it’s not just because of being confronted with what you look like. The way he sees the world seems to be different - the colors are a darker blue and red than your vision, and he sees a lot sharper than you. Your smile flashes up before you, and then sound - the way you pronounce a word. Another memory; you asleep on his lap on the couch, andt the immense happiness that moment gave Damien, seeping inside you as if the memory were your own. Then he pauses, and it’s as if he’s walking around you, waiting for you to hand something back. Your regret for your earlier remark springs up, and you try to visualize it as something physical in your second halves’ hands. Quiet understanding comes, and gratefulness, along with that same worn tiredness again. Worry blooms up in you, and you see Damien flinch before you, retreating from your mind before you can probe any further.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The whole exchange had perhaps lasted a moment, yet it felt as if you had a full conversation just now. It’s easy to see why Damien preferred to let you experience it, instead of talking about it.

“That was… I’ve never felt… That must have been convenient for your previous companions.”

Damien grins, nodding fast.

“It saved our hides more than once. And it made our bonds very strong. Sometimes, when you can’t explain how you feel, it’s easier to let the other one go through it as well. Well, most of the time. I’ll explain that last part some other time, if that’s okay with you,” he reacts when you frown at him again.

“Don’t worry too much about me, even though it pleases me that you care.”

“Okay. But… Well. If you want to talk about something, I can listen too, if you need it.”

It seems a lot to offer to the creature in front of you, but you can’t just switch off your feelings for him, complicated as they are.

Damien gets up and sticks out his hand which you accept. The big palm closes around yours, and the warmth and gentleness feel weirdly familiar.

The demon softly pets your head, but doesn’t touch you in any other way. You let him and carefully smile up at him.

“Hey. Let’s go back inside.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So far I've researched Celtic old names, zoetrope and film history, Gaelic language, World War 1 information and more for what was intented to be a simple smut story.   
> Honestly, I don't know where I'm going with this apart from a couple of events I've planned for the future, but I love this story. Thank you all readers who give that love back :) 
> 
> The movie they're watching should be easy to identify for animatedmovie lovers! Can you guess which one it is?

It feels eerie to descend the stairs with Damien behind you. After just a few days and the fallout of yesterday, you still made the decision to let him stay with you. You just read his mind, and let him into yours. He possesses gifts that should only exist in fantasy novels, and you only know two of them.   
This all should be having you in a panic, and instead you feel like calmth itself. Like you have it all under control, and the demon behind you is not a ticking time bomb. When you reach the level of your apartment, you quickly reach for your key and get inside, leaving it open behind you so Damien can enter. The couch makes a soft thud when you let yourself fall into it, and you rub your forehead while Damien closes up, making sure no one sees him. 

“What do you want to do tonight? And please don’t say ‘what you want to do’. I’m serious. Don’t.” 

Damien comes closer and crouches a few steps away with you. His eyes are earnest when he nods at you and breaks the silence with his familiar baritone. 

“Talk to you and get to know you better. ...Perhaps watch another movie?” 

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly at the enthusiasm of his proposal. 

“A movie sounds nice. You can pick whatever you want from that drawer there, and I have more movies stored on my external HD.” 

“Your external… I’m sorry?” 

“...That black box there, next to the tv. It contains another 200 something movies. Tell me if you want to look inside it.”

“Another clever device eh?”

“It is,” you smile, “and there’s a lot more of these in this age. I’ll teach you about them another time. I’m a bit tired now.” 

“Say no more!”

Damien hastily runs to the gas stove to heat up another pot of popcorn, and rushes back to look through the drawer below the tv. His curiosity gets picked by a few covers, and he makes a small pile he carries back to you. In the background, the soft puffs of popping kernels start to ring against the pot. 

“Can you pick the one you like the best among these? That way we can both enjoy it.” 

To your surprise, all movies he picked are animated movies. 

“Why did you pick those?” 

“They intrigue me! I’ve only seen one - a zoetrope movie - in Paris, a couple of years ago. I mean, a couple decades ago,” Damien smiles apologetically. 

“I’d love to see how they have evolved. ...Just a moment, I need to take care of that,” he hastens. 

The popping sounds have grown louder in the kitchen, and you watch the horned back of your demon companion while he turns off the fire. A few of the movies he picked are among your favorites. After all, you love art and animation.   
While he’s clever, you decide that it might be best to watch Wall-E at a later time, and even though you love The Lion King the most, you want to save it for a another moment. And you definitely don’t want to watch Grave of the Fireflies right now. Another few movies get weighed and found too lightly, until you land on the last one. 

“Made a choice yet?” 

Damien walked back to you, holding a cold soda and a huge bowl of popcorn. You sigh again, pushing away the thought that maybe,  _ maybe  _ you  _ still  _ made a mistake. At this moment, you want to relax, forget, drown in the magic of another world. 

“Yes, I did,” you smile, holding up a cover with a blood-smeared girl and a wolf on it, the girl defiantly looking back at you. 

“It’s one of my favorites.” 

 

The next two hours are spent in complete silence. Damien is mesmerized by the story that plays on the screen, as are you. When the ending credits roll over the screen, he remains motionless, as if he’s lost in thought. You carefully step over his long legs while you clean up, and don’t try to talk to him. Even without Damien sharing his thoughts, you can see that he needs some time by himself.    
When you put a glass of water in front of him, he seems to break out of his musings and smiles at you. A faint feeling of gratefulness makes contact with you and then fades again. After contemplating the situation a bit longer, you sit down next to Damien again and look curiously at him. 

“I don’t mean to pry, but I’m assuming that you’re thinking of someone you knew. I hope the movie didn’t make you sad.” 

Damien’s teeth flicker in the half-dark when he grins wryly. 

“Somewhat. But I enjoyed it immensely. It might be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” 

A short pause, and a turn of his had covers his expression when his longer hair falls in front. 

“I regret not being able to share it with a certain someone. She loved art, and she would have loved to see this.” 

This time, you don’t hesitate. Damiens skin is warm as always when you gently put a hand on his arm and carefully stroke him. It might just help with trying to comfort him.    
The touch in your thoughts returns, with a familiar longing in it. Before you realized why, you got closer to Damien and put your arms around his neck while sitting up on your knees.    
He flinches, barely noticeable, then returns your embrace, enveloping you in his warmth. In your arms, you feel his tense shoulders relax, and his head slowly lowers onto your shoulder, relaxing into your body. And once more, it just feels right, being close to him,  _ being _ with him. It feels  _ good _ . 

Why are you being this way? 


	19. Chapter 19

“You’re such a sweet person,” Damien sighs in your hair. 

“I’m lucky, this time. So lucky. No war, too…” 

His fingers comb slow paths through your locks while he shifts back into the couch. The change in position pulls you forward so you against into his bare chest, arms still around his neck. His golden eyes are calm and sad.  It feels odd to be petted by someone, but Damiens touch is warm and comforting, and you decide you, well, don't mind it. 

“I’m glad for you too. I can’t imagine living as long as you and not be… Well…” 

“...Just say it.” 

Damien’s petting stops until you start talking again.

“...and not be sad. I mean, you get to live several lives, but you have to say goodbye so many times too…” 

Damien grabs you by the shoulders and slowly pulls you back, so the two of you can look at each other. His eyes are wet, and you feel almost embarrassed, being so close to a creature this old, and yet being so emotional. 

“I think I now fully understand why you were the one chosen for me this time. I need this. I need your sweetness and patience, your caring nature. I’m…” 

His deep voice falters here, and his fingers dig into your arms. The hairs on your neck raise when his consciousness reaches out for you again and you feel a fraction of the immense grief inside the demon in front of you. You shiver, even though your face feels heated. 

“...I’m broken on the inside, [Y/N]. I had to say goodbye too soon to Richard, my love. We barely had the chance to get to know each other. ...The ... war took him while we tried to flee to a safer land, far away from conflicts that we became trapped in. They had a rather cruel way of dealing with corpses back then, you know. Bombs filled with shrapnel that ripped everything close by to shreds. His beautiful body… He was… He...” 

At this point, he chokes up, the words coming out more strained. You push Damiens hands away and embrace him again. It’s too painful to see him suffer and not being able to comfort him. His breath warms your hair when he talks and softly holds onto you.

“I didn’t want to meet someone new, for some time. It happened before, that I was together with someone that died too early.”

“Oh no… I’m so sorry, Damien. That must have been terribly for you.” 

“Eimaer.” 

Two golden irises meet yours, a sparkle of nostalgia in them. 

“That was her name.” 

“Was… Was she Irish? That’s the name of the wife of a hero from a myth.” 

“I’m glad you know it. You are right, Eimaer, after the wife of Cú Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster. A small jewel, talented in many ways, full of dreams. I lost her when she was eleven. I knew her since she was four.” 

“Since  _ that _ young?” 

You are stunned to hear about this and sit back to take it in. Up until now, you thought that all his partners had been adults, for some reason.

“Yes. I was her friend and mentor. I wish I could have shown her this movie just now. She would absolutely have loved it. She was a gifted artist, and she had a beautiful voice. I often thought my heart would break when she sang.” 

Damien quiets, retreating into his memories again, leaving you silent against his chest. You can hear the heavy beating of his heart under your ear. An inappropriate thought wells up inside you - how would it feel to kiss his skin? - and you violently push it away, angry at yourself for thinking about something like that, on a moment like this. 

“She sounds like a wonderful person. I’d like to hear more about her, if you want to talk about her.” 

“Heh. Maybe not now. I’ve said a lot already. Somehow, I feel like I can trust you with all this, but I’ve got some limitations too, you know. Of course, you can overrule them, but I hope you don’t.” 

“Of course not. You don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t w-” 

Any next words are gently silenced by Damien, who puts his finger over your mouth. You redden under his touch, that lingers far too long, scalding your lips. 

“I want to. Someday. For now, I’m more than grateful to have found someone who wants to listen to me.” 

The finger on your lips slowly travels to the underside of your cheek, uniting with his warm hand that glides into your neck, softly tugging at a few strands of hair there. Your legs clench together involuntary, and you hope he doesn’t notice. Damien gives you an inscrutable stare, taking in the details of your face. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Inappropriate thoughts,” you blurt out, “that I don’t want to act upon or share at this moment.” 

Damien promptly bellows, shaking below you. 

“Ohh, my sweet, frustrated [Y/N]. Don’t you worry. I will not try to seduce you any further tonight.” 

“Just tonight?” you grin, cheekily lifting an eyebrow. 

His sharp teeth flash back at you. 

“Just tonight. I promise I’ll return to it first thing in the morning.” 

“You’re sleeping on the couch again tonight, you stupid demon.” 

“And you…!” 

You shriek in surprise when Damien lifts you up from the couch and carries you into the bathroom, putting you in front of the washing table. You stare big-eyed at the reflection, looking unsure at Damien.

“...You have work tomorrow, don’t you? Rest up and go to bed, it will do you good.” 

“...I didn’t realize you were my dad,” you frown at him, but you can’t make a good argument against him. It was past 1 AM last you checked, and you  _ are _ tired. 

“I’m a lot of times your age, [Y/N]. One of us two has to be the responsible one,” he quips, chuckling when he sees you gasp indignantly. 

“I’m not a kid!” 

“So I’ve noticed,” he warmly says, making you forget everything snarky you wanted to throw back at him. 

“Take care of yourself, my dear.” 

Damien pats your head one more time and leaves you alone, carefully closing the bathroom door behind him. Your heated face stares helplessly back at you in the mirror when you grab your toothbrush.    
After having brushed your teeth and washed your face, you walk past Damien, who’s sitting on the couch waiting for you. He grabs your hand and presses a kiss onto it, giving you a soft pinch and smile when he releases your hand again. 

“Good night, [Y/N].” 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, you weirdo.” 

“They wouldn’t dare. Sweet dreams,” he adds, carefully observing your reaction. You pause, then nod back at him.

“Sweet dreams to you too.”  

It takes you to up until you’re under the covers to realize you left the door open. If you were afraid of Damien before, somehow that fear is gone now. You close your eyes, waiting for the dreams that he will send you. 

 

**********************************

 

The next morning you awake well-slept, and you vaguely remember something about flying, high in the clouds, together with another person - someone you can’t recall. Then you become aware of Damien right in front of you, carefully tapping on your shoulder. 

“Sorry for the sudden awakening dear, but I think you didn’t set your alarm this day, so I thought to wake you up at the same time as yesterday.” 

You flinch and shoot up, registering you have a generous amount of time left before you can head to work. A relieved sigh accompanies your lowering shoulders, and you let Damien help you out of bed, into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. While you rinse off, once more, pleasant smells waft inside from the living room, and when you step outside in your towel, a full table has been set, with several pieces of toast and jam jars and some fruit. 

“What a service,” you smile at your red-skinned companion. 

He bows slightly at you, visibly pleased with the half-baked compliment. There’s no irony in his movement, and you feel the need to say something about it. 

“Hey.” 

“Yes, [Y/N]?” 

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be my servant, okay? I would become lazy and all that if I let you do everything all the time.” 

“You don’t like me helping you in the house?” 

“That’s not… I do, actually. It’s nice. I just want us to have a normal dynamic. Not like I’m your master or something. I mean, you’re so much older like me. It would be totally disrespectful.” 

Damien straightens his back and smiles mysteriously at you. With a few fingers, he pushes his thick, long hair behind his ear, so it’s no longer covering his bare, toned chest. You blink nervously, trying not to stare too much at his arms and torso. 

“It’s a good thing I don’t look my age then,” he grins cheekily, his tail swathing excitedly below him. 

“You certainly don’t act like it,” you mutter, blood rushing through in ears while you turn to get dressed. 

 

Usually you don’t eat in the morning, but the toast and jam are a simple enough meal. You grab two slices and eat them quickly while checking your laptop and tablet are in your bag. Then you get up and helplessly look at Damien. 

“Have a good day, I hope,” you shrug. 

“And good fortune to you, [Y/N].” 

“That would be nice,” you sigh. 

“Don’t worry too much. You’ll do fine,” Damien assures you, promptly following up by flicking his tail in your face and tickling you with the fine hairs ar the end.    
You guffaw and grab hold of his tail, at which Damien stiffens and eyes you carefully. 

“Oh. Is it sensitive?” 

“Very much so.” 

He shivers when you loosen your grip on his tail, and when you can’t resist stroking your thumb over the freckled skin, he bites his lip and quickly closes his hand over yours, preventing you from further touching his tail. 

“My dear, don’t do that to yourself right now,” he grimaces, his breath heavier than usual. Damien softly peels your fingers away from his tail and pets you when you look apologizing at him. 

“Just go to work. I’ll be still here when you come back, and will probably have calmed down against then.” 

“No touching the tail anymore. Promise.” 

“Please don’t keep that one,” he grins back at you before pushing you outside and gently closing the door behind you. 

You place your hand on the worn door, hesitant to reach out to him. Then you place your forehead against the old wood and step back, retreating to the stairwell, frantically trying to push a few persistent fantasies away.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight timeskip! Tell me if you'd like me to write about what happened these days I skipped, I might write an interlude or short story about that then :)

* * *

**11 days later**

 

“Damien! Guess what?!”

You laugh happily when you push the door open, eagerly looking around for your companion. He lies on the couch, blinking lazily at you when he sits upright.

“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were sleeping.”

He waves at you dismissively while breaking out into a wide grin.

“What good news do you have to tell me today?”

“Well,” you cheerily announce, “guess who got a small promotion, as well as an offer from a well-known publisher for her webcomic?!”

“That’s great news! Congratulations, it’s well-deserved!”

Damien opens his arms and before you realize it, you jump into them, snuggling against his warm chest. By now, you’ve managed to find some clothes that fit him, and seeing him walk through the apartment wasn’t as unsettling anymore. Apart from the fact that he is a demon of a size almost two heads taller than you, of course.

You lean back, looking at his beautiful eyes. They were the one part of him that you couldn’t get used to - the unusual irises that resembled molten gold, fixating your gaze in place when you got caught in his stare.

“We should celebrate! I’m ordering takeout tonight - something more expensive this time,” you decide, getting up and plopping down on your bean bag.  

“Is there anything you don’t feel like eating tonight?”

Damien shakes his head, still groggy from being woken up shortly. He has been sleeping longer the last few days, and you wonder why, pushing the curiosity toward him in your mind. As so many times, the answer comes a bit reluctantly.

“I’m using more of my powers the last few days. It takes a lot out of me - usually I can get by on a couple hours of sleep. As you can see, that’s not been the case the last few days.”

“You should tell me if you want more sleep, you stupid demon,” you chuckle, frowning worriedly.

“I will, it’s okay.”

“So… Been using your powers more? For… ?”

“... I’m not avoiding the topic tonight, am I?”

“Most certainly not. I’ve been entrusting my spare laptop to you, now I’m curious to know what you did with it.”

Damien sighs wearily, answering you with hesitation.  
“Finding and contacting the order. To see how they are doing and how I can help them in this lifetime.”

A stunned silence follows. Given how busy you’ve been the last few days with your extra work, you hadn’t thought too much about Damien and his background. You feel a pang of guilt at the realization. Damien seems to sense it and strokes your cheek.

“Don’t you worry. They are my responsibility. I’m a big demon after all - I can take care of myself,” he quips, making you smile with him.

“Did you find them?”

“Yes. Like you showed me, I went on your laptop and looked through the internet to find their web address - I mean, _website_ ,” he hastens to correct himself.

“Almost perfect,” you grin, giving Damien a thumbs up.

“Thanks, [Y/N]. I’ve got a patient teacher in you. I’ve seen quite some interesting things, too.”

The demon pauses and blinks a few times, his eyes drifting off to a spot on the wall. You put your hands before your mouth and start laughing.

“Oh my poor demon,” you chortle, “what was it? Furry porn? Japanese advertisements? The Dow Jones index?”

“Remind me to look these up later, I’m afraid it was none of these,” Damien frowns, not sure how to take your reaction.

“Don’t worry. I think you’ve probably figured out by now that humans never get tired of sex and silly stuff. The internet makes it easier to share, is what it is. As long as you didn’t get me on the FBI list, it’s fine.”

Damien gives you a slow blink and sighes.

“I understood some of these words. I need some more time to master this, I’m afraid.”

You chuckle once more.

“Damien, don’t worry. You’ve got time.”

“Do I?”

“...”

You halt, holding in what you were about to say. How long has he…?

“Two weeks have passed. You could lull me to sleep again, if you wished for that.”

“I…”

You shake your head.

“I'm not doing that.”

“Before-”

“Now hold it there, demonic grandpa.”

Damien's face goes through a rainbow of expressions, some of them identifiable as amusement and indignance.

“Before, I was scared, angry and confused. I didn't know anything about you.”

The next pause feels less uncomfortable than the previous one. A mischievous smile appears on Damien's lips.

“So, you've gotten to know me better, and you've still decided to let me stay? Brave. Very brave of you, [Y/N].”

“... If you don't behave I'm sending you away anyway, stupid demon.”

It's a joke, and both of you know this. Damien blinks confidentially at you.

“But you need more time on other fronts, don't you?”

“... Yah.”

“Do I scare you?”

“...Most of the time you don't.”

He awaits the rest, patient but wary. You bite your lip anxiously, wishing you could command your heart to beat slower. It's hammering like mad in your chest.

“Agh. Stop looking at me like that.”

Damien smiles lewdly and leans back, out of your lines of sight when you bury your face in your hands.

“... I get scared when I think about you being in control. And usually I'm not opposed to that, but…”

You notice Damien's tail swishing, his stare becoming darker.

“Yes, I'm scared. You are so strong. Those nails, your teeth, and who knows what you're packing down there. I feel like it could go wrong very quickly. Like I could get hurt.”

The covers rustle when the demon sitting on them glides forward. Damien kneels in front of you, slowly putting his arms around you.

“Whuh..?”

Before you can finish that eloquent sentence, warm fingers tilt your head gently, while another pulls your hair in the same gentle manner. Damien descends onto you, his dark eyelids fluttering and closing when his sensual lips close over yours. You stiffen, then melt as he kisses you slowly, exploring the way up your cheek and your temple. You further relax when he nudges your hair, when his nails glide ever so tenderly over your sensitive skin. It doesn’t hurt - at all. Instead, your skin heats up where he rests his hands, molding you to his grip. It’s only when it’s been seconds that you realize Damien lifted you off the ground and you’re floating in his arms, centimeters above the ground.

He laughs heartily at your dazed expression, in his own disarming way. He starts turning towards the couch and steadily lowering you, showering exposed skin with caresses and nibbles, eliciting small moans from you. Then it almost becomes too much and you call his name, getting afraid.

“Damien-”

He stops, just like that. The demon leans forward, using his arms as support. He smiles lazily at you, not a sign of annoyance or disappointment in his thoughts when he reaches out to your unconsciousness. Instead, it feels as if he’s more than satisfied, purring at the thought of having had a small taste of you.

“This is how much you are in control, dear [Y/N]. I want to be with you, but ultimately, you are the one that has the last say in everything I do.”

You blow at a few strands of his hair that have fallen into your face. His locks reach down the far end of his backside now, thick, lush cables of gleaming black, burgundy and golden hair falling down in a waterfall over his shoulders. You’ve been wanting to braid your fingers through them for a while now, wanting to know how the soft strands would feel between your fingers.

“...You are so _goddarned_ persistent, do you know that?”

Damien laughs again, averting his gaze above your head, then looking back down at you. His whole face smiles, his eyes soft with adoration.

“That I am. I firmly believe that each day I’m not getting to adore you, is a day wasted.”

“...Oh lord…”

You hide your flushed face in your hands, your cheeks scalding hot. A bit more and he would have pushed you into a frenzy that you’d rather not be in. You know that horny you tends to make bad decisions, after all.

“...Turn around, will you?”

Damien pauses until you send him a thought about what exactly you expect from him. The wordless communication had become more easy between the two of you, thanks to Damien’s clear pointers and the exercise every few days. Images were exchanged, as well as feelings, memories, and silent conversation.

Damien stretches himself out over the couch, turning onto his back, and grabs hold of your hips, pulling you to sit straddled over him.

“Hey, that’s not what I-”

“It was worth trying.”

You grumble and sigh, pushing back your hair to look down at Damien, who spread his arms next to him, staring unfazed back up at you. It doesn’t feel like you’re in command _at all_ , even though you’re sitting on top. The pose Damien shifted into suddenly cracks you up.

“Hey, you stupid demon, what do you think you’re doing? Copying the lord and savior and all that, while trying to get into my pants?”

Damien blinks for a moment and bursts out in laughter when he realizes that, indeed, he’s lying crosswise below you, very much resembling a certain religious figure, save for a few striking details.

“I know a couple of priests that would have something to say about blasphemy and eternal torment,” he roars at you, grinning all his teeth bare.

“Not that hell scares me though,” he confides you, a bit more calm.

“...Does it exist?”

“Not like it’s portrayed throughout history. And I’m afraid there’s no such thing as heaven either. Not as far as I know, at least.”

That gets you quiet. You considered yourself atheist through your life, so it shouldn’t bother you too much, yet… Having an actual demon between your legs tell you there’s no such thing as gods, only witches and demons and who knows what else…

 

You decide to ask him more about it later. Right now, your fingers itch to pay him back for what he just did to you.


End file.
